


You Are Not Alone (Mike x Eleven)

by disneyprincess315



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: And so soft, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Eleven | Jane Hopper Needs A Hug, Eleven | Jane Hopper and Mike Wheeler in Love, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Mike Wheeler Loves Eleven | Jane Hopper, Mileven, One Shot Collection, Post S2, Post S3, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, they're so in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-20 16:43:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 63,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disneyprincess315/pseuds/disneyprincess315
Summary: A bunch of Mileven one-shots covered in fluff and just a little bit of angst. Seriously, there's a lot of them.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 80
Kudos: 127





	1. After (Post-S3)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my one-shot book! I've been working on this project since September of 2017 and it's all posted on ff.net, but I joined the AO3 Mileven community at the beginning of this year (because wow, you all are talented here) and it's just now occurring to me to share my work here as well XD I'll be posting these out of order and I'll indicate in the chapter title whether it's a one-shot that I wrote after S2 or S3 (maybe I'll post my post-S1 stuff, I dunno yet). I'll update on here every two weeks, while my ff.net book will continue to update every month. I'm so excited to meet new people on here and share all the copious amounts of Mileven fluff with you guys! I hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the months following the S3 finale--Mike and El learn to cope with the distance, an element that only seems to strengthen their relationship.

They got five days for Thanksgiving. Five blissful days where all they did was talk and kiss and hold one another in between all the feasting and gatherings with the rest of their friends. 

The past month has been harder than they’d thought it would be. Mike found that he woke up every morning with a pit in his stomach, one that twisted and manipulated his heart, until all he could feel was the dull throbbing pressure of pain and all he wanted to do was fall back asleep so he could escape it. 

Because she wasn’t there. No matter how hard he wished and pleaded and begged, she was still thirty miles away from him and it was an unfortunately familiar ache that he could never shake no matter how hard he tried. 

She wasn’t doing much better. Even though that town held memories she didn’t think she was strong enough to face, it also held her home. Sitting in her new room felt...wrong and she always felt a pull to go back up north, to run back into his arms and never, ever leave. 

Because that is where she belonged. She belonged with him. 

What part of the universe didn’t seem to understand that? 

They put every effort into lifting each other’s spirits though. Before she had left, he had reminded her that they would figure it out together just like they always did and they promised one another over and over again to call every night and to visit as much as they could. “I’ll see you soon,” and the occasional, “I’m yours,” was murmured over and over again in the final moments and it had given them to strength to part. 

They did indeed call each other every night, without fail. On nice clear nights, it was with Cerebro, where Mike would lay on his back on the grass, staring up at the stars with a goofy grin on his face as her voice floated through the speaker telling him anything she wanted to and he could just picture her lying on her bed clutching the stuffed animals she adores so much. He’d respond with jokes and stories of his own and for an hour every night, everything was okay.

“I miss you. Nine more days, alright?” “I miss you too. I’ll see you then, Mike.” Then there would always be a pause, words that still were daunting to both of them echoing in every pulse of their hearts and they knew it without having to say it that the other still loved them and always would. 

“Eight more days, alright?” 

“Seven more days, alright?”

And then before he knew it, it was one more day and then she was standing on his porch with Will and not wasting a second before throwing her arms around him so lovingly he almost started crying. He smiled over her shoulder apologetically to Will, letting him know that he missed one of his best friends too and Will nods, smiling as he pats his friend on the back and makes his way into the house. 

Without an audience, Mike squeezes her tighter and buries his face in the crook of her neck. He mumbles, “I don’t think I’m gonna let you go,” against her skin with a smile and chuckles when she responds with, “Good.” 

They eventually do let go of one another, only to clasp their hands immediately and even though they just talked last night, they already have so many things to tell each other as they make their way down to the basement. Mike greets Will enthusiastically and the three of them spend the next hour catching up and soaking in the relief that they’re together again. 

When the rest of the Party arrives, they fall back into the natural order of things as easy as breathing...stories of stupid things they’ve done are shared, teasing insults are thrown and laughter is constant, a true testament to the strength and health of their friendship. 

‘This is what it should always be,” Mike thinks bitterly, glancing over at the wide smiles on Will and El’s faces and he grips El’s hand a little tighter, which he’s scarcely let go of since he arrived. 

He’d learned the importance of giving El the independence she needed back in July, but he hadn’t been able to touch her in a month and he was clingy as heck. Much to his relief, so was she. She stayed by his side as she engaged with the Party, joining in on their antics, but always making sure she was connected to him in some way. He was learning when to let her go and likewise for her, giving her space to talk with Max or see something Dustin wanted to show her. But whatever she was doing, he kept his possessiveness firmly at bay, because he knew, in the end, she would return to him. 

She would always return to him. 

Thanksgiving renewed his shriveled spirit, giving him hope in the strength of the Party and El’s parting declaration of love sent him soaring through the clouds, a place he has yet to come down from. 

(He finally said it to her over the phone a week before he saw her, after an hour and a half long conversation spent reminiscing on their past. He had wanted to kiss her so badly in that moment, but he had settled for something even better and he’ll never forget her breathless gasp or her sweet voice returning the words back to him.) 

He saw her once more before Christmas when Jonathan drove down to pick up Nancy...something about a college photography exhibit? He wasn’t really paying attention, because he had no idea El was coming and he almost knocked her off her feet with the force of his hug when he suddenly saw her standing at the top of his basement steps.

Nancy convinced her boyfriend to stay a little longer, looking pointedly at him and El with a grin, a move he later thanked her profusely for. He dragged her down to the basement and was about to pull her back into his arms when he noticed the hint of sadness tinting her beautiful brown eyes. He asks her what’s wrong, interlacing their fingers and squeezing gently enough to keep her grounded until she looks back up at him and tearfully explains that the Snow Ball was one year ago today. 

It hits him like a punch in the gut, the reason why she looks so torn up about this. She’s mourning what they had. Had. His heart cracks dangerously and then he’s cupping her face without thinking about it, wiping the tears away with his thumbs and shaking his head over and over as his words fumble out of him. 

“I’m...I’m right here, nothing’s changing, El. Please don’t...don’t worry, we are okay, nothing can change us, okay? Don’t be sad, we’re figuring it out, I’m...I’m not going to let you go, remember? I’m right here. El. I am right here.” 

Always. 

When she calms down, resting her forehead against his and clutching his hands like her life depends on it, he lets her just breathe, kissing her lips occasionally, before he leads them over to the couch, where he lays down and invites her to rest on top of him. She accepts gladly, nuzzling her face into his chest and sighing as he begins to rub her back softly. 

It took a very long time for them to part that day. Jonathan and Nancy were late for their event, but neither of them could find it in them to care. El apologized profusely that night for bringing down the mood, apologies that Mike blocked every time, telling her over and over how he was glad she brought it up and how they shouldn’t be afraid of working through their feelings about this time in their lives together. 

The Byers all drive down for Christmas a few days later, staying with one of Joyce’s old friends. Why they couldn’t just stay there all the time was beyond him, but nevertheless, he was so glad they were back and for a whole week too. A whole week of pretending things were back to normal and he would take what he could get. 

It didn’t take long for the Party to figure out that Will was acting weird. They caught him staring blankly off into space with this hopeless look in his eyes more than once and it stabbed Mike’s heart every time he saw it. They figured it was just flashbacks, memories resurfacing because he was once again back in the town that had never been anything but mean to him. But when Mike casually asked how his new school was, he finally spit out the truth. 

His high school was terrible. The classes and teachers were fine, but the kids? Bullies. All of them. It’d been two months and none of them had bothered to reach out to him or invited him to hang out or sit with them at lunch. He’d heard whispers floating through the hallways about him. There were no nicknames he hadn’t heard before and he was baffled how the entire student body had already figured out that he wasn’t entirely straight. 

He was lonely. Lonely and sad. 

No one knows what to say after that. One glance at El proves she knew all this, but it still hurts because she doesn’t know how to help. She’s not there to beat up the kids who pick on him and while she does her best to comfort him every time, listening to him and giving him hugs when he needs them, she still can’t prevent what happens to him at school. 

“What can we do, Will?” Lucas, ever the practical one, asks eventually. “We want to help you.” Will shrugs, fidgeting with a Rubik’s Cube he picked up from the shelf. “Just...just don’t stop being my friends. It helps knowing I have you guys.” “Of course, Will. We’ll always, always be here for you. Will you call us if you ever need to talk?” Mike asks, watching his best friend carefully and as he replies, “Yeah, yeah of course,” with a small smile, he can tell he’s not lying. 

They sit in heavy silence for a few moments longer, before Max asks El how homeschooling with Joyce is going, effectively getting the attention off of Will and the conversation is rebooted, picking right up where they left off. 

Knowing the distance had been as hard on Will as it had been for him and El, Mike poured everything into making sure he was spending as much time with them as possible, even establishing a day for each of them to hang out with them individually. He and Will took a day to go through Mike’s old comics and memorabilia, swapping stories back and forth about both the past and the present as they decided what they should keep, what they didn’t need anymore and what they should purchase at the comic book store next time they visit. 

He also reserved the day after Christmas specifically for him and El to have together alone so they could trade gifts in private. He was a little confused when he opened his bag to find a bunch of sweaters that actually matched his style perfectly, but when she shyly explained that it was so he could wear them, she could steal them from him and then she’d have even more things to remind her of him, he laughed at her bluntness, kissing her on the cheek in thanks for her thoughtfulness. When she lifts her gift out of her bag, she almost starts crying and he sits up a little bit straighter with pride. He’d found a teddy bear at one of their local stores and immediately thought of her when he felt how soft it was and how comforting it was to hold. He’d asked his grandma to embroider the word, “Promise” on its fuzzy stomach and when he’d explained it was for a girl, she’d gotten it done within an hour. 

El’s clutching that bear when she climbs into the car a few days later, turning around so she can watch him through the back window as the distance between them widens painfully once again. He waves sadly as he watches them go, the new sweater he’s wearing keeping him warm as he stares numbly at the place where they just were, already looking forward to calling his girl that night. 

In January, El’s nightmares come back with a vengeance. And they’re bad. Like, really bad. Horrible images of all her friends dead, Papa killing Hopper, the Mind Flayer killing her instead of Billy, blood, so much blood and violence and screams filled her nights, making her wake up shaking uncontrollably as she cries out, tears rolling down her face. Will and Joyce do everything they can and they help so much, holding her patiently, talking her through it, calming her down. She loves her new family so much and she’s so grateful for their comfort. 

It tears Mike apart to hear about them whenever she tells him over the phone the following day, always asking what he can do to help her and the answer is always “just talk to me,” because the sound of Mike’s voice holds a power that she will never fully understand, but knows she craves desperately. So he tells her over and over again how she’s safe, he’s safe, everyone they know is safe and everything’s okay, hoping his words settle into her subconscious at night and calm the terrors it tries to send her way. 

But it doesn’t work and one blustery late night, the phone on Mike’s nightstand rings, startling him and the rest of the Wheeler household awake. He grabs it blearily, mumbling a “hello?” and when he’s met with a frantic, “Mike??” he bolts upright, almost yanking the phone off the surface. “El? El, hey, what’s wrong, what’s going on?? Are you okay?” “N-no! Mike!” She’s sobbing, and the last time he heard her sound so distraught was the moment she’d found out about her father. It sends his stomach plummeting and his heart twists in on itself, aching for the girl that’s so painfully far away from him. 

He does his best, speaking every word of comfort he knows, trying everything that’s worked before and even trying what hasn’t, anything to get her to breathe, to focus on what’s real and not what’s been fed to her, but nothing is working and he begins to fear that she’s going to pass out if she keeps crying this hard. 

“Please come, I need to see you,” she keeps whimpering, despite the reassurance he tried to pour over her. “Please, please, Mike.” So, finally, he sighs and asks her to put Mrs. Byers on the phone, already having made up his mind that he was gonna see El tonight but wanting to check with her guardian, just in case. 

“How bad is it?” “It’s...it’s bad Mike, I’m so sorry. We normally can calm her down pretty quickly, but she’s very shaken up tonight. She woke up fifteen minutes ago and she’s still...” She trails off, but El’s shaky breaths in the background speak for themselves. “Okay. I’ll be there soon. Can you put her back on?” “Mike, no, you really don’t have to-“ “No. She needs me. I’ll be there.” “...thank you,” Mrs. Byers responds and he sighs internally, grateful that he was doing the right thing. The phone is passed back to his girl and he bites her lip at the way she whispers his name, desperate to know that he’s still there. 

“El? I’m coming, okay? I’ll...I’ll see you soon. Promise.” “Okay. Hurry.” He nods his head, though to what he’s really not sure and hangs up, pushing himself to his feet to throw a sweatshirt on, guessing she won’t care if he’s still in his pajama pants. He throws a change of clothes into a backpack along with his SuperComm, just in case someone tries to reach him, and is racing down his stairs before he knows it. 

It occurs to him as he heads to the garage that his entire plan is to ride his bike down a route that takes at least forty-five minutes driving, so biking it will take at least two hours...but he doesn’t have any other choice. 

His hand is on the doorknob when he hears a deep voice behind him calls his name. Much to his surprise, his father is standing on the stairs, looking at him all confused and bewildered. Ted goes to say something, but Mike beats him to it. “I’m going down to the Byers. I know it’s one in the morning, but...my girlfriend needs me.” “Son, I know, I heard your conversation.” “You...you did?” “Yes, I picked up the phone too. Are you planning on biking all the way down there?” 

He resists the urge to roll his eyes, not having the patience for this argument right now. “Yes Dad, and this is urgent, so please just let me-“ “Calm down Mike, I can drive you.” “....what?” “I’ll drive you. What, you think I’m just gonna let you bike to another city in the middle of the night?” “Um...yes?” “No way, you should be safe. C’mon, we can take my car.” 

Mike stares at him dumbfounded, before following him out to the car, hardly believing his luck. Who was this man who was suddenly so compassionate for his son? He’d noticed an uplift in his attentiveness over the past few months, intentionally being a part of his family more often than usual, but he didn’t think he’d come this far. They make it out of the garage and to the entrance of the neighborhood before he finally blurts out, “Why are you doing this?” He doesn’t say it out of annoyance, he’s just...baffled. 

He watches as his dad sighs, clearly tossing the question around in his head as he turns onto the main road. “Your...girlfriend, El. She sounded...well, like she wasn’t going to live if she didn’t see you soon. I knew you would go to her no matter what, so I just wanted to make sure you didn’t give yourself hypothermia by trying to get to her on your own.” Mike hums noncommittally, nodding his head as he thanked the heavens that his dad had listened in because he was right. He probably would’ve gotten sick if he’d tried to bike for two hours in the middle of January. 

“I can tell you care about her, Michael. And she cares about you. Don’t...don’t let her go, okay? Don’t ever let her go.” 

A burst of warmth that he can’t explain spreads through his chest at his dad’s words. He accepts them. He accepts that he’s in love with a girl even at such a young age, and his approval shouldn’t mean so much to him, but he does, and... “Thanks, Dad. Thank you, that, um...that means a lot. And I don’t plan on letting her go. She’s...I think she’s the one.” He gulps, hoping that isn’t too dramatic, but he means it. Thinking about being with anyone else but El feels...wrong in an awful sort of way. No, she’s it for him. He knows it. His dad nods, a genuine smile on his face, and Mike smiles back, all the tension he’s had tied up in his chest slowly fading blissfully. 

The car is mostly quiet after that, save for Mike giving him directions from the ones Joyce had mailed him right after they moved, so he would always know how to reach El. The closer they get, the more his thoughts grow anxious, hoping he wasn’t too late and she was able to calm down eventually. The after-effects of her nightmares always lasted way longer than he liked, but he had always stayed with her every step of the way and he didn’t intend on stopping that now. 

When they cross into the city limits, he begins to radio her every so often, wanting to give her hope that they were close and that he’d be with her soon. His leg bounces nervously, clutching the SuperComm so tightly his muscles begin to ache and finally, on the fifth call, she responds, her voice breaking through the static and he slumps back in his seat with relief. “M-Mike? Is that you?” “Hey, hey El, it’s me. I’m almost there, okay? Are you doing okay? Over.” “B-better. I still want to s-see you. O-over,” she replies and he doesn’t think he’s ever responded so fast. “I’ll be there. I’ll be there before you know it. Hold on, okay? Over.” “Yes. Over and out,” and the static returns just as quickly as it left, swallowing her voice up whole. 

His dad, thankfully, says nothing and he’s sucked up into his thoughts once again, mulling over what he’s gonna say to her, what she’s gonna need and how he’s gonna help her. He knows generally how these episodes go, but it’s been two months and he’s hoping it hasn’t grown so bad he can’t do a thing. But she asked for you, he keeps reminding himself. She knows you can help. 

When they finally roll up to the Byers house, he swallows, gathering his strength before going to open the car door, only for his father’s hand to fall on his shoulder before he can move further. “Mike?” He turns back to look at him. “Yeah?” “Call if you need anything. I’m proud of you.” 

He doesn’t think he’s ever heard his dad tell him that. 

“Thank you. Really. I’ll...I’ll call later.” And with that, he climbs out of the car, closing the door quickly before racing up the driveway, heart thudding with each step because she’s so close. Please let her be okay, please let her-

The door swings open abruptly as soon as he’s on the porch and he can suddenly see her standing in the entryway, all bloodshot eyes and pink stained cheeks. She’s a mess, but he couldn’t care less, because her face crumples as she tentatively takes one step out towards him, walking cautiously until she’s right in front of him, and he can hardly breathe, suffocating in the pain of seeing her so...broken, but he doesn’t dare touch her yet, afraid she’ll break completely if he does. 

She reaches for him slowly, her lips quivering as she holds back her tears and her hands encircle his arms hesitantly, gasping when she squeezes ever so slightly and it suddenly hits him what she’s doing. 

She’s making sure he’s real. 

“El...” Her name tumbles out of his mouth desperately, and he goes to say more, but she’s suddenly throwing herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest as she begins to sob and he wraps his arms around her on instinct, holding her as tightly as he dares. Once he has a firm grip on her, he slowly lowers to the ground, taking her with him so she’s not at risk at falling over from the force of her sobs and she keeps her head pressed to his chest as he pulls her closer to his body, moving one hand up to weave his fingers through her hair and rubbing her back with the other. She’s still crying, still shaking with the sobs she has no control over and he rocks her gently, whispering sweet nothings against her hair and making sure she hears and feels nothing but comfort and love from him. 

Her cries begin to lessen the more they sit there holding each other close and he leaves kisses on her forehead as she slowly begins to focus on evening out her breaths until finally she only whimpers occasionally and her hands no longer shake where she’s gripping him. A breath he didn’t know he’d been holding escapes him as her body relaxes against his, relieved that she’s beginning to calm down. 

They sit there in a heavy, yet comfortable silence as she sniffs occasionally and he continues to sift through her hair with his fingers, a quiet reminder that she’s not alone and he’s here for whatever she could possibly need. Which is exactly this, right now—to be held and sheltered in the most loving way possible. 

A breeze floats past them, rustling the leaves of the bushes nearby and she shivers, pushing herself further against him in a subconscious attempt for warmth and he notices, pausing his movements and kissing her head once more. “El?” he says quietly, his voice low and scratchy, but he knows she heard him because she tilts her face up to look at him. His heart jolts at the sleepy look on her face, her brow creased just slightly as she gazes at him with puffy red eyes and he forces himself to continue. “We can go inside if you want, to get out of the cold,” he tells her, suddenly very aware of how freezing the midnight air is and watches as she blinks slowly, looking around them as if she had forgotten where they were before nodding, mumbling an “okay” and rubbing at her eyes. 

He slowly extracts his arms from around her and she shivers again, suddenly exposed to the cold and he’s quick to get to his feet, reaching down to help her up to hers. He lets her lead him inside the house and he takes a moment to appreciate how cozy it feels. It’s not their old house, but it’s close and he’s glad they’d been able to create something that felt like a home. 

Joyce and Will stand huddled in the kitchen, glancing at them expectantly, looking worried enough that El waves timidly at them and quietly murmurs that’s she’s better now, glancing up at him as she trails off. Better now, because of you, she’s implying, and it warms his heart. They both nod, their faces relaxing noticeably and Joyce sighs, walking over slowly and when she’s close enough, she pulls the both of them into an embrace that they gladly return. “Thank you, Mike,” she whispers before she plants a kiss on El’s head. 

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like,” she tells him as they pull back and he nods, smiling weakly at her. “Is it...is it okay if I take him to my room?” El pipes up beside him and he tenses, remembering how stern Hopper was with him being in her room, but to his relief, Joyce responds with, “Of course, sweetie. Just...behave alright?” She winks and they know she means it in good nature, bidding both her and Will goodnight before she grasps his hand and tugs him down the hall with her. 

Her room isn’t anything fancy...just a bed, a dresser with some knickknacks on it, a nightstand that holds a framed picture of his smiling face that makes his heart skip a beat, another one of the whole Party and a lamp in the corner that she turns on, bathing the room in a soft orange glow. 

He lets her take the lead from then on out, sitting on her bed when she asks him to, resting against the headboard as he laces their fingers together once again and just lets her talk. Her head slides down to rest on his shoulder and he holds her hand firmly as she quietly recounts the dream to him. 

She had been back in StarCourt, Billy hovering menacingly over her as the Mind Flayer screeches in the background, its sounds magnified a hundred times by her subconscious. She can’t hear Billy, but she knows what he’s telling her...to stay still, that it’ll be over soon, but she looks him dead in the eye and tells him exactly what she’d told him the first time. There was a time when he was happy. There was a time when he wasn’t the monster. He didn’t have to do this. Only, it wasn’t working, he couldn’t hear her over the screams of the horrible monster looming over them and she panicked, kicking and writhing and screaming, but it was no use, Billy’s grip on her was too strong. With he powers out, she was helpless to the tendril that was extending from the Flayer, snaking its way towards her, ready to infect, devour, kill and she screams and screams and screams. 

“But it didn’t get me.” “Really?” “No. B-Because you and H-Hopper ran out from the Gap and stood right in front of me. I couldn’t do anything and I had to watch a-as that th-thing...” she begins sobbing again and he reaches his arm up to wrap it around her gently, allowing her to curl up against his chest. “That thing ripped out y-your heart...” Her hand comes to rest above his very alive, very beating heart and he kisses her forehead softly. “And I...I had to watch as you fell to the g-ground and M-Mike...it was awful. It didn’t even t-touch Hopper, it just went straight for y-you and it all just felt so r-real...”

“And then...you woke up believing Hopper was, um, alive...” He concludes and she nods sorrowfully. “And when I remembered that h-he’s not...” She whimpers, holding back a sob and he squeezes her tighter, a lump crawling up his throat because he knows where she’s going with this. “You thought I wasn’t either?” he whispers quietly as she purses her lips, nodding slowly, her eyes cast downward. “Which...is stupid, because it’s obviously not true because you’re here and...I’m so sorry I made you come down here.” 

He’s shaking his head before she’s even finished her sentence. “If you ever need me for anything, I’ll be here, you only have to ask, El. Nothing you need could be stupid. You are not stupid, okay?” She’s looking up with him with glassy eyes as his thumb draws circles on her shoulder. “And besides, I always need an excuse to come down and see you,” he says lightly and her lips curl up into a watery smile. “I just feel bad—“ “Don’t. Don’t ever feel bad. I want to be here with you. A-Always.” 

A flash of doubt crosses his mind, wincing at how dramatic that sounds, but it causes her to melt, smiling warmly and wrapping her arm around his waist, burrowing further into his side and this, this feels like home. “I wish you could be here always too.” 

He ends up spending the rest of the night with her, knowing Mrs. Byers wouldn’t mind. His arm is draped cautiously over her waist as they begin to doze off, her fingers clinging lazily to his shirt and he watches her closely, waiting until she’s finally asleep to let himself drift off as well. 

When morning finally comes, Mrs. Byers tells them something over breakfast that lights up the world for both of them. “El,  
I was thinking a lot last night. I have a question for you and I want you to give me an honest answer, alright?” When El nods, she takes a breath before looking her right in the eyes. “If Mike came up and spent the night here sometimes, do you think your nightmares would go away?” 

Mike feels his jaw drop, knowing immediately what El’s answer would be and his heart is already leaping for joy. Glancing at him with excitement, El squeezes his hand before replying confidently, “Yes. I think they would.” And that’s how Mike got permission to visit every two weeks to have a sleepover with two of his favorite people in the entire world. 

Things got better after that. For her, the nightmares did indeed cease, the feeling of him and Will resting beside her giving her the peace of mind that she was indeed safe and protected shoving away the horrible memories and for him, having a definite time when he knew he was for sure going to see his girlfriend gave him back the hope and the contentment their move had robbed him of. For the first time in a while, both of them were happy. Maybe not completely, but happier than their friends had seen them in a very long time. 

—

February brought Valentine’s Day and while Mike had enjoyed every moment of the holiday last year, stumbling through an explanation of how special the day was and why he wanted to celebrate it with her, before showering her in gifts and being showered with kisses in return, he wanted this one to be even more memorable than the last. Hence, why he convinced his mom to drive him down early that day so he could surprise El and spend the entire holiday with her celebrating their relationship. Only, as they were driving along the now-familiar county road, a car whizzed past them and when Mike got a glimpse of Joyce and El in the front seats, he yelled for his mom to stop and turn around, ignoring her reprimanding for scaring her half to death. 

Thank goodness the Byers had noticed them too, because they also swung back around and once the cars had been pulled over to the side of the road, the two teenagers leaped out of their seats, laughing in disbelief as they ran to one another. They met in a fierce embrace, talking excitedly, trying to make sense of what was happening over the sheer thrill of seeing one another that he hopes secretly will never go away. 

El had been on her way to surprise him too, and as they’re laughing about their timing, Mike pulls her back into his arms, whispering an “I love you,” wanting only her to hear it. 

March brought Will’s birthday and the Party surprised him with a D&D Day. As much as he tried to protest that he was over that phase, his friends knew him better than that. He had missed this. And if they were being honest, so had they. 

They all found themselves piled in Mike’s basement, nostalgia hitting them in waves as they ventured into the campaign Mike had spent all his free time whipping up, getting help from anyone he could. It was only Max and El’s second time playing, but that was okay because they hadn’t played in so long that they were all kind of bad at it. Mike lost count of how many times each character came within an inch of their lives and while their twelve-year-old selves would’ve been pacing the length of the basement, acting like the world was ending, after they actually had seen the world about to end, a little statue of a monster didn’t seem so threatening anymore. 

But they had fun. They were having so much fun exploring the world Mike had built, the dynamic different than before, but that was okay because they couldn’t stop laughing or teasing each other. 

Until Mike grabbed the wrong game piece, accidentally putting out the Demogorgon and the silence that paralyzed the group was jarring. He hastily pulls it back, apologizing profusely for grabbing the wrong figurine, painfully aware that he killed the mood. El silences his rambling by slipping a hand into the crook of his elbow, glancing at him with a look that both shuts him up and quiets his guilt for ruining everything. 

No one speaks for a while, the campaign having halted in its tracks because no one really knows what to say. That monster was the beginning of all the trauma they’ve worked so hard to heal over the past few years and they’re not scared of it, no, they’re past that. But the reminder of it is crippling and it’s as if they’re afraid they’ll open the floodgates if they dare say a word. 

It’s Max who breaks the spell. She stands suddenly and Mike can feel El jolt next to him at the noise, but before he can reprimand her, she marches over to him and plucks the offending figurine off the table. There are various confused questions from the Party, calling after her as she walks over to the basement door determinedly. In one swift motion, she opens the door, steps outside, throws the Demogorgon as far as she can and reenters the basement, closing the door like nothing had happened. 

And that was that. 

In April, Mike came down with the flu. So, Joyce drove El up to Mike for their regular visit much to his protest, not wanting to get her sick as well, but his girlfriend is as stubborn as she is loving and he finally ended their phone call one night by sheepishly admitting that he still wants to see her, even if that means she has to stay across the room from him. Because the truth is, he was miserable, but anything related to El would make him feel better under any circumstance. 

He’s asleep when she sneaks up to his room that Saturday morning, smiling softly at the sight of him curled up in his blankets, his feet peeking out at the end of the mattress. He doesn’t look great objectively...his skin is clammy and unnaturally pasty, his nose a rosy red and he’s breathing through his mouth, drooling a little as his breaths flow unevenly. His hair is a mess and he looks so worn out, it makes her heart hurt. But despite all that, she’s here and he’s here and that’s all that matters. 

She sits with her back against the wall facing his bed for a while, reading one of the books she pulled off his shelf, sounding out the harder words to herself. She’s hooked by the plot, sure, but she catches herself just staring at Mike more often than she’s paying attention to the words in front of her, a dilemma she has no complaints about. 

Which is why she notices it easily when he begins to stir, groaning as he surfaces back to consciousness. She watches, amused, while he tries to make sense of his surroundings, wiping the grogginess from his eyes and trying to sit up, only for the burden of his sickness to force him to lay back down. It takes him a while to notice that she’s there, but when his glazed eyes finally flit over to her, she smiles, letting him take his time to figure out that she’s actually there. He murmurs her name with a dopey smile on his face...before promptly dozing off once again and she can’t hold back a giggle at the way he slips so easily from looking at her lovingly to being asleep in mere seconds. 

She loses track of how long she sits there, content with a book and a sleeping Mike as the sun goes from glaring through his window to lighting the room gently while climbing high into the sky. Mrs. Wheeler pokes her head into the room just when El’s stomach is starting to grumble, smiling fondly at her son, before entering the room with a tray that holds two steaming bowls of what she assumes is soup. She places one in front of El on the floor, handing her a spoon with a gentle “Here you go, sweetie,” before going to place the other one on Mike’s nightstand. She nods her thanks and begins to devour it quickly, sighing at the flavors that explode in her mouth. 

The smell must’ve woken him up, because his eyes blink open shortly after and, just like before, he glances around in a disoriented haze, before he notices she’s there. “You’re still here,” he mumbles as his lips stretch up into a smile and she nods. “I’m still here. I don’t want to leave you,” she tells him tenderly. “Mmm, I don’t want you to leave.” As he finishes his sentence, his eyes drift up to his nightstand and she has to bite back a laugh at just how excited he looks to see food sitting there and she has to shove down the urge to rush to his side and cover his face in kisses at just how adorable he’s being. She really, really shouldn’t go near him...she hates being sick and her immune system isn’t fantastic, so she’s stuck with just being in the same room as him, and nothing more. 

Only, as he tries to push himself up to a sitting position, he falters, grunting as his arms shake and El is by his side in an instant, looping his arm around her shoulders to help support him and together they get him upright and leaning against the pillows.

Oops. Well, since she’s already over here...

“Hi,” she whispers, before kissing his forehead, watching as a blush adds itself to the rosiness of his cheeks. “Hi,” he whispers back, smiling up at her, looking hopelessly in love and she adores it. She hands him the bowl of soup, kneeling by his bed as he slurps it slowly, watching her intently. She does most of the talking, since his throat is sore and his energy has been drained by his illness, telling him what she thought of the book she was reading, the silly conversation she’d had with Holly when she arrived, the cute deer she’d seen on the drive up, no matter how mundane the content, he listened. 

She took his bowl once he was done, crossing the room to stack it on top of hers. His eyes must’ve followed her because he noticed the book where she’d placed it face down to mark her spot. “Hey, El?” “Yes?” “You could, um...you could read to me if you want.” 

She knows him. She knows that means “Please read to me, I like hearing your voice.” So she grabs the book, hurrying back to his bedside and propping herself against the wall by his head as she flashes him a smile, earning one in return. Mike reaches a hand out to her, and she grasps it, resting their hands up on the mattress as she begins where she’d left off, weaving the story for the boy beside her as he traces patterns on her hand. 

How she doesn’t get sick after that is a mystery beyond her. 

In May, El’s powers returned. She hadn’t tried using them in a while, accepting that they were no longer a part of who she was, but when she accidentally knocks a framed photo off her dresser, her mind reaching out instinctively, willing it not to hit the ground...it freezes mid-fall. In shock, she plucks it out of the air, putting it back on the dresser hastily to wipe at her nose. 

They were back. They weren’t nearly as strong as before, but they were back. 

Being powerless not only meant no telekinesis but no void as well. Finding people just by thinking about it was a luxury she hadn’t realized she needed so much until she had to wait to see them in person like people normally have to. She’d missed watching her friends in the void, if only for a few seconds just to make sure they were okay. But more importantly, she missed being able to reach out to a certain ebony-haired boy whenever she was feeling lonely and just sitting in his presence, watching as he became adorably confused as to why he felt her all of a sudden. 

With a grin, she rushes over to her closet, pulling out the blindfold she had kept just in case and switches on her radio, before tying it around her eyes and waiting patiently to slip into the space she’d missed so dearly. 

When she opens her eyes, Mike is there. Her heart leaps and she rushes over to him, her feet splashing in the wet nothingness of the Void until she’s standing in front of the Wheeler kitchen table, watching him take a bite of a cookie as he writes something down on a piece of paper. 

He’s just so pretty in the Void and she sighs, thrilled that she can finally access this place again. The dark backdrop brings out his eyes more and the pale contrast of his skin is beautiful and she wants to touch him so badly. She reaches out a hand on instinct, but before she makes contact with anything, his movements stop suddenly, and his brow furrows in the familiar way she loves. He looks up and makes direct eye contact with her and she gasps sharply, her heart thudding at his gaze. She watches as his eyes light up and she knows he can’t actually see her, but she’s always loved the moment when he realizes she can see him. With a goofy smile, he waves (‘dork’, she thinks affectionately), before glancing around, probably making sure there’s no one around, before he whispers, “Hi El. I’m gonna go get my SuperComm, alright? Don’t go anywhere, I’m coming back.” With that, he rushes off to somewhere she can’t see and she shuts her eyes, not wanting to see him disappear. She hates seeing him disappear. Teetering on the edge of the real world and the void, she fights to stay here, gritting her teeth until she hears footsteps and opens her eyes in relief to see he’s returned clutching his device. 

He switches it on eagerly, before walking towards her with cautious steps, not wanting to accidentally touch her and send her hurtling out of the void. When he’s close enough, he sets the SuperComm on the table and turns to face her. 

“El, can you hear me?” “Yes. Hi Mike,” she replies and he looks ecstatic, grinning widely as he chuckles. “Hi, El. I’ve, um...I’ve missed this. A lot.” She’s smiling so wide, her cheeks hurt but she really doesn’t care. “I’ve missed this too. They’re back. My powers, I mean. I can use them again.” “El, that’s so awesome! When did they come back?” She giggles. “Five minutes ago. I wanted to come tell you.” “I’m so glad you did. Do they hurt? You know, from being out of use for so long?” 

His concern warms her from the inside out and she just wants to kiss him and hold him, but that’s impossible, she reminds herself bitterly. “I’m not as strong,” she admits and his eyebrows raise so high she’s surprised they’re not touching his hairline. “Well don’t tire yourself out, alright? I love it when you visit, but if you need to rest, I’ll talk to you tonight, okay?” She sighs in relief because she can feel her head throbbing distantly. “Thank you, Mike. I’ll see you soon.” “Anytime El, I’ll talk to you later...” He clears his throat, glancing down at the ground and she inches forward, smiling softly at the blush on his face. “I miss you. I’m excited to see you next week,” he whispers. “I miss you too,” she says, pouring all of her heart into the words that they, unfortunately, say so often. 

Screw it, she thinks and darts forward to kiss his cheek softly. There’s skin-on-skin contact for the briefest second and she hears his gasp before she’s launched out of the darkness and back into her body, which is very, very tired. She grabs a box of tissues, cleaning herself up before falling asleep blissfully. 

Mike revokes the “no spying” rule that night. “Just...just please don’t keep looking if I’m doing something embarrassing.” “Too late.” “El!” 

When summer rolls around, El is delighted to hear that Mike isn’t needed much around his house, since his parents are mainly focused on Nancy leaving for college in the next few months. Plus, without school or homework or responsibilities, that leaves them whole weeks that they get to spend with each other. And finally, finally, things begin to feel normal again. The constant pang of being separated isn’t as sharp anymore, because they know that the longest they’ll go without seeing each other is a few days. 

Admittedly, everyone is on edge as they get closer to the anniversary of the Mind Flayer trying to take over the world, so the Party sticks close together, going about their regular teenage summer antics, but looking over their shoulders every once in a while, because if the evils that plagued them last year return, at least they’ll be ready. 

Fourth of July comes and goes without a hitch, much to the Party’s relief. They finally get to stuff themselves with hamburgers and laze about in the pool and enjoy the celebrations just the six of them, like the holiday should’ve gone the year before. But the highlight by far was getting to show El fireworks in a setting that wasn’t destroying a giant inter-dimensional monster. She flinched at the first couple that went off, but Mike looped an arm around her waist as Max grabbed her hand and she relaxed at the touch, her head lolling back onto Mike’s shoulder as she slowly let the painful connotations of the display above her dissolve into ones of celebration, independence and, most importantly, love. 

—

When Joyce told Will and El, it took everything within them not to phone all their friends and scream the wonderful news at them. No, they agreed together, this had to be special, something they dropped on them like a bombshell when they weren’t expecting it. They spent so many nights whispering conspiratorially, planning out just what they were gonna say and when they were gonna say it and predicting who was gonna cry (Mike, El insisted. Mike was gonna cry). Every night when she called him, the secret bubbled happily inside her, lifting her spirits and her soulmate couldn’t help but hear the giddiness that she tried to mask. “What’re you so happy about today?” “I can’t tell you,” she teases him. “Why not?” “Trust me. You’ll know soon.” “Okay...” He sighs and there’s a heavy beat of silence, before he continues, his voice all warm and soothing. “I’m, uh...really glad you’re happy, El. That makes me happy.” 

Little does he know how overjoyed he’s going to be tomorrow. Because tomorrow, Mrs. Byers is driving them up to Hawkins and dropping them off at Mike’s house, before meeting with the local realtor to inquire about houses on the market in the small, cozy town. 

They were moving back after Jonathan went to college. The distance had stretched them too thin and her mom had noticed, sitting them down night after night to discuss the pros and cons of staying right where they were. They understood that money was an issue, and it had taken a financial hit to uproot the first time and move everything down south, but both El and Will were clear on the feelings they’d suppressed for the sake of their mom who was convinced she was doing the right thing. Their home was in Hawkins, even with all the pain that came with it. The people there were everything, and while they were appreciative of each other and the bonds of family between them...they felt horribly incomplete without their friends.

“Okay,” Joyce had said with a sigh. “We’ll go back. For good this time. You two deserve it.” She was met with two pairs of arms wrapping around her, thanking her profusely over and over again, tears welling up at the thought of finally being near their true family once again. 

El finds herself almost shaking with anticipation as she sits on Mike’s bed, grasping the hand of her boyfriend, “tomorrow” having finally turned into “today”. The rest of their friends are lounging on the floor, discussing back and forth over what they should do that day. She hopes she’s not being too obvious, because she keeps glancing over at Will, barely suppressing a grin at the knowledge they both hold. Getting everyone’s attention is going to be a lot harder than she originally thought, as she swears there are seven different conversations happening right now, but that’s how it should be with them and she soaks in the feeling of being with her friends for just a few moments longer. 

‘It’s going to be like this all the time again. Soon,’ and as that thought fizzles deliciously in her chest, she blurts out, “Will and I have something to tell you guys.” She’s met with curious silence as all attention suddenly snaps to her and her brother and she bites her lip to contain her grin, subconsciously holding Mike’s hand tighter. One glance at Will shows him smiling uncontrollably and he nods at her, graciously letting her do the honors because he knows how desperately she wants to tell them. 

She breathes in. She breathes out. 

“We’re moving back!”

...

“What?!” “Are you serious??” “You’re gonna come back?! You’re gonna go to school with us?!” “ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” 

She bursts out laughing as everyone starts talking at once, the excitement and relief of finally telling them lighting up every corner of her being and the sheer joy of the moment bursts within her vibrantly. “Yes, seriously, we’re coming back!” They enthusiastically begin to talk over each other again, clamoring for details as she feels herself being pulled into Mike’s arms. He smushes her against his chest, but she doesn’t care, because she knows it’s purely out of joy and she’ll happily stay squished as she listens to his voice bouncing spastically, asking as many frantic questions as the rest of them. Resting a hand on his forearm, she lets him hold her as Will gets them all to quiet down with a goodnatured, “Hang on, we have answers if you nerds would shut up!” 

They do and glance between the two of them expectedly, anticipation making them all jittery and El finds it adorable. “We never wanted to move away, you guys know that,” Will started, his voice serious and calming the atmosphere. “But we knew it was what was best at the time.” “Or so we told ourselves,” El adds and Mike squeezes her empathetically. “Right,” Will continues. “As we told you guys over Christmas...um...the school I was at sucked.” “It didn’t get better, did it?” Lucas cuts in, looking at his friend with concern and Will shakes his head, gazing down at the ground. “No, the, um...the bullies got worse. I couldn’t...I couldn’t find anyone who wanted to be friends.” 

El could hear the heartbreak settle among her friends and is about to pipe up when Dustin nudges Will with his foot. “Why didn’t you tell us? That it was still happening, I mean.” “I didn’t want you to worry, especially since there wasn’t much you guys could do. But I can tell you that thinking of you guys and how...how much you all actually care about me is what got me through each day. That and El,” he says simply, smiling up at her appreciatively and she nods at him, recalling all the nights spent soothing him through his insecurities and sharing hers in return. Mike’s thumb discreetly traces circles on her back and she nuzzles further into his chest. 

“Anyway,” Will says, clearing his throat. “El wasn’t much better off.” “Hmm, I wonder why,” Max says, but to everyone’s surprise, there’s only a hint of teasing in her voice. The rest of it almost is...sad, like she was hurting for her best friend and El shoots her an appreciative glance. To her surprise, she feels Mike’s lips press against her forehead, right there in front of everyone and her cheeks grow warm as she smiles softly. “And I wanted to go to school with my friends,” she adds casually and feels Mike jolt in surprise. “You’re actually going to school? With us??” The hope in his voice makes her heart sing and she nods eagerly, grinning up at him to see his face purely alight with exuberance. “That’s incredible, you guys! You’re coming to Hawkins High!” Dustin whoops and when Will adds, “Mom is looking for houses right now as we speak,” that’s the final blow and the reality that El and Will Byers are coming back to them is cemented into place. 

Suddenly, it’s like when they left, but the complete opposite—warm hugs overjoyed instead of sorrowful, words exchanged laced with laughter instead of tears, eyes dancing with happiness instead of barely concealed fear. The world was righting itself again and they each knew somewhere in their hearts that it was going to stay that way for a very, very long time. 

Somewhere in the celebration, someone (probably Dustin), shouts, “We gotta go tell Steve!” and they’re suddenly rushing for the door, laughing and talking energetically as they relish in the adrenaline of this revelation. 

El feels a familiar hand tug her back and she watches her friends go, catching Max’s eye and motioning to the boy behind her and she nods, winking as she guides the rest of the Party downstairs to let the two of them have a moment. El closes the door softly with her mind and turns back to face him. 

His eyes are watery (she totally called it), but that’s okay because hers are too, and he wordlessly pulls her closer, grasping both of her hands in his. As she watches patiently, he opens his mouth, shaking his head and chuckling breathlessly as words fail him. He tries again a couple of times, stuttering out a few words, before blowing out a breath with a smile and his eyes flit up to meet hers. 

She sucks in a breath at the deep, consuming look in his eyes and she willingly falls farther and farther into it as she feels her tears start to spill over her lashes because she’s gazing at her future. She’s gazing at the boy she’s gotten to grow with over the past several months through aching separation and patches of the days she did get to spend with him that were weaved with love and happiness. She’s gazing at the impossible dream she’d almost let go of that’s now just over the horizon. 

Because they’re going to go to high school together. They’re going to work through piles of homework together and face down bullies and be that couple in the hallways and take each other to dances and rebelliously stay out way past their curfew if only to have a few more minutes with one another. They’re going to watch the other mature and flourish into their own wonderful person, exploring the world with the assurance that the other is supporting them every step of the way. Everything that had crumbled, slipped out of their fingers in an instant was rebuilding itself in a vision that seemed almost too good to be true. 

But it was real this time. This was real. 

She rests a hand on his cheek, gently wiping away the few tears rolling down his skin and when they realize no words are powerful enough to match this moment, he lowers his lips to hers and she meets him halfway, wrapping her arms around his neck as he kisses her tenderly over and over again. His hands clutch at her waist as she meets him kiss for kiss, reassuring him silently that she’s not leaving him again and they now have all the time in the world to just do this. 

They part eventually when they both are giggling too much to continue and she hopes this wonderfully childish feeling of joy never goes away. “I-I love you, El,” Mike murmurs to her, grinning like the fool in love that he was and she laughs just because she can. “I love you too.” She presses one more kiss to his mouth before whispering, “Forever.” 

She tugs them gently out of the room then, away from the doubt and the pain and the longing of the past year and towards the rest of their lives.


	2. Paper Rose (Post S2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During their junior year of high school, El picks up an unexpected hobby, one that Mike adores.

She had never considered art or drawing before she met Will. Sure, Mike would sketch sometimes for a campaign when the world he was creating got too big to fit inside his head and she had a knack for doodling when she was bored, but it was Will who introduced her to the magic behind what can be created with just a piece of paper and a pencil. 

His drawings were beautiful. She caught a glimpse of them every once and a while, since a few of them were hanging on his fridge at home or tacked up in his room, but it wasn’t until he presented the Party with drawings portraying each of them as their D & D characters that she got to study one up close. 

And wow, was he talented. When he hands her the drawing he did of Eleven the Mage, she gasps and can’t tear her eyes away from it. The figure on the page is draped in a sleek black, flowing robe, the dress underneath a baby pink that matches the flowers in her long, silky brown hair. Her gaze is focused somewhere off in the distance, most likely on some enemy she’s about to smite, her hand outstretched and she can feel the power radiating from her character. 

And her face. She’s shocked at how accurate Will drew her features and even though it sounds cliche, it truly is like looking in a mirror. Her eyes, her nose, her lips, even her jawline is perfect and she looks so...empowered and confident that she quickly forgets this is just a drawing. The girl on the page is both better than her and wonderfully, perfectly her at the same time and...she loves it. 

The rest of the Party is buzzing excitedly around her, gushing about their own drawings, but she hears none of it as her head snaps up and her eyes lock with Will’s. “Teach me to draw,” she pleads. 

And he does. 

That was two years ago and now, several lessons, pointers and afternoon sketching sessions later, she’s finally enrolled in her first art class in school. With a little persuading from Hopper and the Party, she managed to bypass the beginning class and go straight to Advanced Drawing, a class that few got into. But as soon as the teacher saw the drawing she did recently of Castle Byers, he let her in without any dispute. She was that good. 

Mike was so proud of her. He remembers the first few drawings she had done and while he didn’t want to say they were bad, she definitely had...improved. By a lot. She always had struggled to find things she was good at and with the Party constantly reassuring her that her talents didn’t define who she was, she learned to be content with the skills she had been given. 

But underneath her confidence, Mike could see that it still bugged her when she came in last place or created something that she deemed lesser as compared to everyone else’s. Admittedly, he too held that same insecurity, but he was lucky enough to find the areas he was designed for. Science and stories, those were his creative avenues, the places his mind would escape to when it got tired of reality. 

He was ecstatic that El had finally found hers and he told her so excessively. Every time she would hand him her latest drawing, he’d gush about it, trying to find the words to express how talented she was and how proud he was of her. He’d end up rambling, but she didn’t mind and would listen to him with the happiest smile on her face. Eventually, she’d silence him with a kiss when he started to run out of words, her drawing forgotten between them as she thanked him for his undying kindness and he returned her affection sincerely. 

Aside from El getting into her drawing class, the beginning of their junior year was...relatively uneventful. Just another year at Hawkins High, a place the Party had mastered by now. 

Or so they thought. 

Dustin’s the first one to break the stunned silence when they’re handed their schedules in their first period homeroom class. “We only get lunch together two times a week??” 

“That’s correct Mr. Henderson,” their teacher calls from the front of the classroom. “Could I have your attention, please? As you all know, Hawkins High is expanding rapidly, with more students than we’ve ever had and we’re offering more classes this year as well. As such, we can’t afford for each grade to have their own lunch period anymore, due to the classes that must be during either fourth, fifth or sixth period. You have all been assigned a lunch period that works best with your schedule. However, we understand that you still want lunch with all your friends. Tuesdays and Thursdays have become block days, meaning you will only have four of your classes and they will all be an hour and a half long. You will get a common lunch on those days when the entire building goes on break for lunch.” 

El and Mike stopped listening the second she explained that they all had different lunch periods. Instead, they had taken to staring at their schedules in disbelief, their desks scooted as close to the other as possible. She reaches for his hand when they suddenly realize it at the same time. 

They don’t have a single period together this semester. 

Not a single one. 

“Mike—“

“We’ll still see each other every day. I’ll make sure of it. When I finally get the car next month, I’ll pick you up every day for school and I’ll take you home every afternoon.” His thumb strokes her hand as he does everything he can to reassure her. “I can go talk to counseling, see if somehow I can drop my fifth-period class and come have lunch with you—

She cuts him off sharply. “Mike, you can’t. You love physics, you can’t drop that class.”

“But I love you even more,” he replies and her stomach flips deliciously, her face heating up, no matter how many times she’s heard it. 

“We’ll figure it out,” she tells him determinedly. “We’ll still spend every afternoon with the Party, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah of course. And maybe they’ll even let us have a couple afternoons to ourselves,” he suggests, a hopeful smile on his face and she nods in agreement. With calculated breaths, she lets the panic subside, knowing that there’s nothing that could keep the two of them apart. If less time together during the school day means an extra amount of time together when they’re finally free, then so be it. 

Not seeing Mike for seven hours certainly was an adjustment. In a high school as small as theirs was, one would think they’d cross paths at least once, but no, somehow their schedules made it so they’d have to take a ridiculously inconvenient route to each of their classes in order to run into one another. Begrudgingly, they both agreed that it was better to avoid tardiness and stay out of detention then have their academic records destroyed their junior year just to see one another for a few seconds. 

And so the school year began. Their homework load ramped up considerably and whispers of their future began to linger around the corners, but the Party stayed strong, supporting one another endlessly and the first few months sailed by relatively smoothly. 

-

Mike sighs as he twists the dial on his locker, absentmindedly putting in his combo and opening it when he hears the click. 

He wasn’t going to pretend he was in the best mood today. It was a Wednesday, meaning he should’ve had lunch with El and the rest of his friends yesterday, but she had an English project due on Friday and she spent all of lunch, plus that afternoon, working on it. He hadn’t seen her in over twenty-four hours and, frankly, it sucked. He was able to talk to her over the phone for a little bit the previous night, but nothing beats the living, breathing El. 

His mind wanders as he stores away the textbooks he won’t be needing for the rest of the day, but he snaps back into reality when he takes his lunchbox out and a piece of paper flutters to the ground. 

He examines it curiously, wondering how on earth it got there. He bends down to pick it up and when he flips it over, he can’t help the dopey grin that lights up his face instantly. 

It’s a rose. Sketched onto the ripped corner of a piece of notebook paper is the best pencil drawing of a rose he’s ever seen. Its petals are beautiful, blossoming from a well-shaded stem. His eyes trace it down the paper and his heart begins to beat widely when he sees her signature scrawled in the space underneath the stem. 

“Love, El” it reads and he can’t stop smiling as he feels his face heat up. 

Has he mentioned he loves this girl? 

Suddenly, an idea pops into his head and he grabs his own notebook from his locker before shutting it and heading to the AV room where he eats lunch alone when he can’t eat with his friends. 

Once the door has been shut behind him, he plops down at the desk and clears a space for him to work. Taking out a pencil, he turns to a clean page and begins to draw. His art skills aren’t anywhere close to rivaling El’s, so he settles on cartoon flowers instead, making them big and extravagant, even throwing a little color in there too. When he’s sketched out as many as he can, he pauses to eat his sandwich as he admires his handiwork, then glances around the room in search of a pair of scissors. The first pair he finds happens to be lying by a ball of string they keep in here just in case they need to fix something with it. 

‘Perfect,’ he thinks and sets about cutting out all the flowers he’s drawn. Glancing at the clock, he sees there isn’t much time left in his lunch period, so he hurriedly finishes cutting the last ones and when he’s done, he arranges them in a makeshift bouquet. Picking up the rose she made for him, he places it in the center and ties a piece of string around their stems, securing them all together. 

‘Love, Mike’ he writes below one of the flowers he drew and places a kiss on it, just for luck. 

He doesn’t have time to slip it into her locker as he rushes to his seventh period, so he resolves to put it there the next day since he passes by her locker between third and fourth period. Hypothetically, he could just give it to her after school today, but where’s the fun in that? 

The following day, he quickly unlocks her locker and, making sure she isn’t around, places the paper bouquet inside. He isn’t anticipating some big reaction from her because of it, he just wants her to know that he’s thinking of her and he cares for her.

He’s more confused than anything when he opens his locker a few periods later and sees a drawing of an Eggo lying on top of his notebooks. “Thank you for the flowers,” is written on the back and he almost laughs out loud when he realizes she’s showing her gratitude with an Eggo. 

He likes this. He likes giving her little gifts in the middle of the day and getting her reply in return. Even though they’re not face-to-face, it’s fun to keep in contact with her during the long school day. 

He could’ve just kept the Eggo and mentioned it to her after school. But he’s not ready for this to be over quite yet. 

So, he spends his lunch doodling a bunch of the toaster waffles she loves so much, attaching them to hand-drawn sticks and arranging them to create a bouquet out of Eggos, a heart drawn on the back of every one of them. 

It’s one of the best things he’s ever created if he does say so himself. 

He repeats his actions from the previous day, purposefully avoiding mentioning what she had drawn for him when he sees her that afternoon and slips the bouquet into her locker after third period, smiling as he does so. 

And thus started a pattern that made his days a million times better. When he went to pick up his lunch every day, she’d have a new drawing for him, even on days they saw each other during lunch. He’d spend his free period making something to give to her in return, whether it was adding onto the picture to make her smile, writing a poem about what she had created or just simply leaving her a note saying how amazing her drawings were becoming, making sure to remind her every time that he loves her and he’s proud of her. 

Funny thing is, they never spoke a word about it to one another. It’s almost as if they were daring each other to speak first, see who could beat the other in the “Paper Wars” as he’d named it for himself. The first one to acknowledge the war lost and if losing meant that this ended...well, he intended to pretend it didn’t exist until the end of time if he had to. 

Her drawings ranged anywhere from animals to human faces to random objects she saw in her classroom and he enjoyed finding new things to add to them. He returned a horse she drew with a sketch of the two of them riding it off into the sunset, wrote a free verse poem about the drawing of a lake that she did, attempted to draw a hand intertwining with the one she had sketched out (that failed miserably and after several exchanged notes that consisted of her teasing him over how bad it was, he dared her to try it herself. Which she did. And blew him away), the list goes on and on. 

It was jarring to find a very detailed, intense drawing of the Demogorgon resting in his locker one day, about a month after the Paper Wars started. He chose not to reply to it, only stuffing it in his backpack hastily before anyone could see and making a mental note to ask her about it later. He didn’t care if it meant he finally lost, he knew she wouldn’t put that in his locker without a reason. That time in their lives was scarring to all of them and there had to be an explanation for her choosing to draw out one of her demons.

“Are you okay?” he asks her quietly as they sit in the Hawkins High parking lot after school in his car. Rain streams down the windows, plinking on the roof of the car, but they aren’t in a hurry to get anywhere. His keys sit unturned in the ignition as he watches her face closely, sensing something was wrong. Her backpack sits in her lap and she rests her chin on it, staring at the dashboard, her lips turned down just the slightest bit. 

“I haven’t had a dream about...about that night in so long,” she begins, murmuring quietly, only speaking loud enough to be heard over the rain. His fingers are tangled with hers in an instant and he allows the silence to settle as he watches her chase her thoughts around in her head. When she lands on something she doesn’t like, her face begins to crinkle up, but he quickly squeezes her hand to bring her back to the present. 

“El, it’s over,” he tells her gently. “You did it. It’s dead. We don’t have to worry about that part of our lives anymore.” The hand that’s not clasping his starts to fiddle with her backpack straps as she nods half-heartedly. 

“But Mike...I almost...you could’ve...” she pauses, scrambling for the words, her breathing starting to kick up and he quickly puts a finger under her chin, guiding her gaze to his. 

“A lot of things could’ve happened that night. Trust me, I know. But the only thing that matters is you made it. You survived, El. I survived, thanks to you. We’re all okay now, and you have to focus on that, not the hypothetical things that could’ve happened.” 

It seems to do the trick and she nods as she lets out the breath that she’d seemed to be holding. “Let’s just go home,” she mumbles, gripping his hand tighter. 

He drives them to his house with one hand on the steering wheel and the other entwined with hers. He’s still upset that he hadn’t caught onto her solemn demeanor until she’d given him that drawing, but he trusts her and is glad she said something about it eventually. 

Speaking of the drawing, it occurs to him that they never directly mentioned it. It was implied, but it was never acknowledged. Which meant...the Paper Wars were still on. 

He had a pile of her drawings in his locker by now and he was happy that it continued to grow every day, as did the stack in hers. Her sketches began to get more complex as time went on and sometimes, he’d have to wait a whole week to see what she’d been working on, giving him more time to craft a response worthy of what she had created. 

Which is why, when he didn’t get anything from her for a couple of days, he wasn’t concerned at all. A week went by and he eagerly awaited what was to come, knowing her next drawing had to be coming soon. 

Except, it didn’t. And he didn’t receive anything the next week either. By the third week, he was extremely tempted to just ask her about it, using the rationale that he must’ve already won if she stopped doing it, but just in case, he held back, waiting patiently for her to break their standstill. 

It ended up paying off because on the Wednesday of the fourth week, he opened his locker to see a brand new sheet of paper lying on his textbooks. He pulls it out eagerly and when he flips it over, he can’t help the gasp that escapes him or the tears that climb up his throat. 

She had been drawing him. She took the time to draw his face and it’s the best, most detailed portrait she’s ever done. His heart explodes with affection and pride for his girl and he can’t stop staring at it, marveling at just how intricate and beautiful it was. Somehow, with just a pencil, she managed to put an emotion on his face that he’s only ever seen on hers and it makes him want to weep just looking at it. 

He hastily gathers up his lunch and her drawing, swinging his backpack onto his back as he does so. When he arrives at the AV room, he quickly shuts the door, plops himself down at a table, opens his notebook and lets whatever his mind wants to say spill out onto the page, his heart fluttering madly as he does so. 

“Dear El,” He writes. 

“Once upon a time, a boy and a girl happened to be in the woods on a stormy night, one searching and one fleeing. 

Though this was no happenstance. Unbeknownst to both of them, their very souls were intertwined, bound together by a ribbon, a ribbon that was tired of being stretched so far. Aching for the other person, it tugged and tugged and tugged, until the two ends met as rain poured down around them. 

And in an instant, the boy was hers. And she, his. Completely and irrevocably. Just like it always was meant to be. 

Four years later, the girl drew the boy. She drew him in a way that no mirror, no reflection could ever express. 

She drew him when he’s looking at her. She drew him in undeniable love. 

She drew the hair that he’s been growing out especially for her, letting it curl at the ends just so they match. He loves her hair, even more so when her curls twirl around his own when they’re close enough, further proving they were meant to be together. 

She drew his ears, barely poking through that mop of hair, that love nothing more than the sound of her voice. They await it eagerly, anxiously, restless until he hears her sweet voice once more and he can finally breathe again. 

She drew his freckles, the ones she has a strange fascination with. Before he was Frog Face, he was Freckle Boy and he used to bitterly joke with himself that God had given him a freckle for every insecurity he held. Now, she once said that he has a freckle for every time he’s told her he loves her. “But that number is countless,” he insisted. “Exactly,” she murmured as she once again failed to count them all. 

She drew his cheeks all round and soft and he knows if it were in color, he’d be blushing. It’s rare that he can do anything but when she looks at him. Her eyes send a spark to his soul, lighting him up in ways he can’t describe and he never minds it when he feels his cheeks flush because he knows that it makes her happy. 

She drew his lips and he laughed when he saw they were a little more puffy than usual. Of course this is the look he gives her right after a kiss. He’s so enamored with her that his mind blanks out every time their lips meet and he can’t do anything but stare at her lovingly as his stomach does flips over and over again. 

And finally, she drew his eyes. And in them, he sees the same emotion he sees in hers every day. His heart beats wildly in his gaze, all vulnerable and open because only she can tear down his walls like that. He sees everything displayed in his own eyes and he prays she can see it too. 

And as for him? He wrote this. He wrote this so she would know that he’s all hers, every inch. She’s rendered him hopelessly smitten and he wants her to know that the love that shines on his face is all for her. He doesn’t look at anyone else like that, because he doesn’t love anyone else the way he so desperately loves her. 

You’re incredible, El. 

Love, Mike.”

He sets his pencil down, his chest heaving with a big sigh as he looks over his work, relieved that the words he urgently needed to say to her were out on a page. He smiles despite himself and quickly wipes away the few emotional tears that escaped him as he wrote out something that resembled only a fraction of his feelings for her. 

He doesn’t want to wait until tomorrow to give this to her, so he takes the risk of being late, making his way across the school and carefully slipping both the drawing and his writing into her locker. 

The rest of the school day drags on slower than he would’ve liked and he doesn’t have it in him to focus during his last few classes. He still can’t get over what she had created for him and he’s more than willing to lose the Paper Wars if it means thanking her in person.

When the bell finally rings, he hurriedly walks down the hallways and heads outside, taking his spot by the entrance where he always meets her after school. He bounces on his toes anxiously, watching the flow of students pour out of the doors, looking for a head of eccentric brown curls. The crowd is starting to thin out and he’s considering going in to find her himself when she suddenly comes bursting through the doors and his only warning is a choked call of his name before she’s running towards him. He gathers her up in his arms, grinning as she buries her face in his neck, holding on tightly to him and her body shakes as she sobs softly. Dropping a kiss against her shoulder, he leans his head against hers and grips her tenderly, rocking her slightly from side to side. 

“M-Mike, I love you s-so much,” she tells him, her words tripping over her tears and dripping with emotion. “I d-don’t know what I did to deserve you, your letter-“ She’s cut off by a sob that forces its way up her throat and he rubs her back lovingly as he waits for her to finish. “Your letter was b-beautiful.” 

He pulls back just enough so he can meet her eyes, which are sparkling with passion and emotion. “You do deserve it El. You deserve every single inch of my love for you. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you, you’re perfect,” he tells her. 

She’s shaking her head before he’s even finished. “You’re wrong. You’re wrong,” she whispers over and over again, her shoulders continuing to shake as she tilts her head to press her lips against his with a whimper. He sighs into their kiss, relishing in the softness of her lips and pulling her as close as he can, feeling himself fall farther and farther into everything that she is. 

He has no doubt that the dopey grin on his face when she slowly pulls back matches the one she drew and when he meets her eyes, he’s convinced he’ll never be able to look away. 

After much lighthearted debating, he ended up persuading her to keep both her portrait and his letter. “I want you to know that I’m thinking about you whenever you look at it,” he told her. “You deserve to be looked at the way I look at you and I don’t want you to forget that.”

Unbeknownst to him, she’d always secretly wished she could take a picture of the serene moment after they kissed and it now hangs proudly in her room, sending butterflies through her stomach every time she meets his pencil-drawn gaze.


	3. Forever (Post-S3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A guest on ff.net requested Mileven at a wedding and it turned into one of the floofiest things I've ever written. Enjoy!

Mike has never been high or drunk in his life, but he has a suspicion that this is what it feels like. 

The atmosphere of the day is doing something to him. His uncle is finally getting married to his wonderful girlfriend, Lynn, and while he’s beyond happy for them, he’s ecstatic that he was allowed to bring El along under the explanation that she’s never been to a wedding. His girl had been sighing over the weddings on her soap operas for months and she lit up when he mentioned the engagement. She’d tried being subtle in her efforts to get an invitation, but subtlety has never been her strong suit and within days, she’d gotten the approval that she could tag along too. Thank goodness, because he doesn’t think he’d survive a day of stifling formalities and awkward family conversations alone. And, oh, she’s made it a thousand times better. 

He’d sat next to her during the ceremony, his hand clasped between both of hers. She looked stunning, the pale purple dress she’d borrowed from Nancy cascading down her form elegantly, complementing the brown of her eyes nicely and tan of her skin beautifully. He missed most of the proceedings purely because he was watching the dreamy look on her face and noticed the way she teared up when the bride walked down the aisle, sighed wistfully as the bride and groom met at the altar and squeezed his hand tenderly during the vows. 

He squeezed back knowing in his heart that they would have this someday. He wanted to marry her. Oh, how badly he wanted to marry her, to stand in front of the world and declare how much he loved his girl over and over again. The watery, hopeful, loving smile she shared with him as the newlywed couple kissed was enough to make him hopeful that maybe she wanted that too. 

The joyous nature of the ceremony raised the spirits of the crowd dramatically and as they transitioned to the reception, he found himself unable to detach from his girlfriend, too swept up in the celebration of love to leave her side. And his relatives have taken notice, leaving him all blushing and stuttering. 

“So, Mike, you got the ring yet?”

“You’ll look beautiful in a wedding gown, sweetheart.” 

“Mikey boy, you better invite me when you two get hitched.” 

On and on, it seemed like everyone took advantage of the way he held on tight to her hand and she rested her head cozily against his shoulder. But El took it in stride and he tried his best to as well. “When we’re ready,” becomes her instant reply to the relatives who stopped them as they make their way through the ballroom towards their table. 

When we’re ready. 

Could he have found a more perfect girl? 

They finally settle where their cards spell their names in fancy letters and Mike nods to his parents, sticking his tongue out playfully at Holly, who reciprocates the gesture.

“Hello you two,” Karen chirps. “El, did you enjoy your first ceremony?” 

She nods, her dimples crinkling as her face lights up. “It was beautiful, I’m happy for them,” she replies wistfully. “What was your wedding like?” 

His mom’s smile grows tight and Mike’s stomach twists, knowing full well there’s a reason that none of his parents’ wedding pictures are displayed in their house. 

“It was lovely,” she settles on, glancing warily at Ted, who’s observing the conversation with what appears to be little interest. He nods once as contribution and Mike feels El’s fingers squeeze his tightly. 

“I’m sure it was,” she replies politely and Mike swallows, scrambling for something, anything to talk about other than their unstable marriage. 

He’s saved by the clinking of a glass and breathes a sigh of relief as the best man takes the stage and the room turns their attention to the front. She’s sitting behind him and he feels more than hears her whisper, “I love you.” 

“I love you too. I promise we won’t be like them,” he whispers back as she rests her chin on his shoulder. 

“Promise,” she breathes. “We’ll be different.” 

He grins and presses a quick kiss on her forehead, before chuckling at a quip the best man had made. 

It’s not hard to imagine the Party doing this at his wedding as a few more people get up and share their heartfelt speeches. He knows they’d tease the two of them relentlessly and he’d probably hide in his hands as they tell stories of how obviously head over heels he was, but neither he nor El would rather have anyone else. He’d never hear the end of it if he brought it up to them at this age, but one day. One day they’d be the wedding party and he could not be more excited. 

The wave of embarrassment ends for his uncle and the DJ in the corner announces it’s time for the first dance, inviting the newlywed couple to the floor. Lynn nearly drags him to the center of the room, but her husband doesn’t seem to care, grinning at her brightly as the lights dim. A ballad Mike doesn’t recognize begins to play, the beat soft and soulful, and the room watches as they begin to dance with one another. El quietly scoots her chair closer to him, close enough so that he can wrap his arm around her, tucking her into his side. She kisses his shoulder lightly, before resting her head against him as they watch the couple sway. 

He wants that with her so badly, it hurts. All in good time, he reminds himself. What they have right now is amazing and there’s no need to rush. 

The song shifts to a similar ballad and the father of the bride rises from his seat. Lynn kisses her husband, whispering something in his ear, before crossing to meet her dad and Mike sucks in a breath. 

He’d forgotten about this part.

He bites his lip, squeezing El harder as the father and daughter begin their beautiful dance and it isn’t long before he feels her tears start to soak through his shirt.

Who would dance with El at her wedding? Unless Hopper miraculously reappeared...she wouldn’t have a father figure. Sure, Joyce could always dance with her, or heck, maybe the men of the Party would, but he knows it wouldn’t be the same. His heart twists and he rests his forehead against her hair, staying quiet to let her have a moment as she trembles. 

The world has been outlandishly unfair to her, he thinks as he holds her tight. She deserves double in love and happiness what she’s felt in pain and he knows he’ll stop at nothing to pour that onto her every day. 

Eventually, the song progresses to a more upbeat pop tune, but El makes no effort to move, so neither does he until she stirs and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. He hums and looks down at her, brushing his fingers along her arm as she wipes at her face. After a beat, she sniffs and lets go of him. “Dance with me?” she murmurs. As if he would say no. 

“Sure. Just as long as you forgive me when I step on your feet again,” he says as he stands up and she laughs, a nice departure from her demeanor earlier. 

“I don’t mind,” she tells him, taking his hand and he follows her out to the dance floor as a song from a few years ago begins to blast. He grins. She loves this song. 

She squeals and drags him the rest of the way before turning on her heel and grabbing his other hand. They figured out very quickly that neither of them were great at moving in rhythm alone, much less together, so when they dance (which El still loves doing despite their...limitations), it’s tame. Hands clasped tightly, feet moving side to side, arms attempting to sway to the beat, it’s fun, something special just for them. 

It’s easy to get lost in this rhythm, and he does, watching her as she laughs and bops to the beat. He loves moving with her (because let’s be honest, he’s not dancing, more so moving), letting her take the lead and dance about freely. The songs move from one to another smoothly, but he’s not paying attention to anything else but having fun with his girl. 

“Did I ever show you how Hopper danced?” she says in the middle of one of the songs and he has to do a double-take because she seldom says his name out loud. 

“No, do you want to show me?” He stutters out, watching her closely for any signs of sadness, but she let go of his hands confidently and begins to move her hips, shimmying slightly up and down, her hands in motion with her movements. 

It’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. 

“That’s really how the chief of police danced?” He asks with a grin and she nods happily, adding a little twirl to her routine, causing him to chuckle. 

“So like this?” He imitates her movements and he feels silly, but she throws back her head, laughing freely and his chest feels like it’s glowing. They dance like that for a few beats, giggling at themselves, before the look in her eyes turns to a heavier one. 

Before he can ask her what she’s thinking about, she closes the space between them and stands on her tiptoes. He bends down to meet her and she presses her lips against his with a sigh, the kiss short, full and sweet. He’s breathless as she pulls back and by some coincidence, the music shifts to a ballad, low and sultry and he tightens his grip on her waist. Without missing a beat, her hands slide from his chest to the back of his neck, her fingers locking firmly and they begin to sway in a rhythm only meant for them. 

How long they danced like that is lost on him. It could’ve been seconds or hours, he wasn’t paying attention to anything that was the girl in his arms. They slowly drew closer to one another, some magnetic force closing the distance between them until suddenly, Mike blinks and her head is against his chest and his temple is against her hair as he cradles her gently. She’s humming along to the song and she’s warm and soft and so, so beautiful. Without a second thought, he nudges her with his shoulder and his heart stops when she blinks up at him with her Bambi brown eyes, all trusting and content. Something inside him sighs and he lowers her lips to hers because he can, enjoying the pleased sound she makes and her hands tighten behind his neck. 

She kisses him back firmly and he leans into her, their embrace evolving into something more passionate as he pulls her as close to him as he can, their lips meeting over and over again and he feels like he’s about to melt from the heat of the love and longing in his veins. 

Marry me, marry me, marry me, his heart pounds out and he knows he’ll never want anything ever more than her. 

Distantly, he hears a wolf-whistle and someone calls something vaguely obscene in their direction. They break at the same time, chests heaving and lips swollen and he barely has time to register his cousin smirking at them before he’s being tugged, El’s hand firmly in his. “Come on,” she mutters, leading him to the doors of the ballroom. They push through them quickly and he heads for the first hallway he sees, anxious to pick up where left off. 

As he pulls her around the corner, she uses the momentum and he can’t breathe as she gently pushes him against the wall, molding their lips together and raking her fingers through her hair. He groans at her touch and his kiss is heavy against her lips, falling further and deeper into their soft, smooth warmth. A thought floats past that they still could be seen but he really doesn’t care. He will stay here, his hands gripping her hips, her chest presses against his, for as long as he’d like, thank you very much. 

El, though, has other plans and as he desperately kisses down her jawline, she gasps and takes a step back, then another and another, dragging him with her. He blearily follows her, his gaze hooked on the longing in her eyes and the sugar-sweet smile that matches it, beaming for him. He closes the distance, kissing her temple, her cheek, because dammit she’s beautiful and she giggles as she continues to move backwards to the other side of the hall, her hand reaching behind her for the doorknob when she’s close enough. He grins as he hears her turn it with a click, and she grasps his suit collar, tugging lightly as the door swings open and pulls him into the room. 

He’s so entranced by the blush of her cheeks that he almost misses it, but her choked gasp rips his focus from her and he glances up to see the room is already occupied

His aunt of a few hours is draped across the couch that looks to be straight from a British castle, the hem of her wedding dress spilling off the side carelessly. Her veil is haphazardly placed on the coffee table and next to it, a bottle of wine that’s almost empty. He’s surprised to see that the glass in her hands is almost empty as well, but what he’s even more surprised to see is the glass that his mom holds as she lounges in the chair across from the bride. 

He thought she quit alcohol. 

In the second before they’re noticed, he registers the mascara stained tear tracks and the devastated, drunk tone of his aunt’s voice and his heart sinks. 

“Michael!” The woman calls to him and he feels El shrink beside him, pressing herself into his side. 

“Mike, El, what’re you doing?” His mom asks, narrowing her eyes and Mike goes to blurt out an apology, but Lynn’s voice overlaps his. 

“Don’t get married, Michael,” she slurs loudly. “Love isn’t real. Sweetie, I know you think you love him, but men—“ 

“Mike, you should go,” his mom says urgently, pleading him with glassy eyes and he gulps, before turning on his heel and practically running to get out of there, El close behind him. They stand there in shock once he shuts the door behind him, bodies frozen and eyes wide at what they’d just seen. 

He could’ve sworn they were happy. They looked so joyous and carefree when they said their vows, promising their lives to one another and he could tell that that’s what they wanted. He’d heard his uncle talk about this woman for years now, they were supposed to be happy and together. Did they not understand how marriage works?

Or is it he who doesn’t understand? 

His aunt’s muffled voice raises dangerously behind them, jolting them back into reality and he moves first, the pained look on El’s face stabbing his heart. 

“Follow me,” he mumbles, grabbing her hand and he leads her blindly down the hall, noticing how her footsteps are unstable as if she’d fall over if he wasn’t holding onto her. He glances up and down the hallway, looking for another door and finally finds one at the end. “In here,” he whispers and opens it, relieved to see it’s a smaller version of the room they had previously stumbled into. Shutting the door hastily behind him, he feels El let go of his hand and he watches as she crosses the room and plops down on the couch in the corner, her brow furrowed. 

“El, I’m so sorry—“

“Mike, what if we’re wrong?” 

“What?” 

“What if—what if she’s right? What if marriage ruins love? What does that mean for—for us?” 

“Hey, she was drunk,” he interjects as he makes his way across the room, settling on the cushions beside her. “She didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. And besides, we’re not them. We’re not anybody but us. What happened to ‘we’ll be different’?” 

With a sigh, she shrugs. “Maybe we will be, but—your parents, Will’s dad, Dustin’s dad...why do people get married if they don’t love each other?” 

For the hundredth time, he curses his parents for being such a bad example of a healthy relationship. They’re getting better and he’s happy for the direction they’re moving, but it’s a shaky direction. It’s just now that he’s starting to believe that they married for love. It only took them sixteen years. 

“I...I don’t know,” he admits and her face falls. “I thought my uncle loved Lynn before today. But maybe marriage does things to people. Maybe it makes them afraid of commitment or some crap like that.”

“What if...what if we get married and it breaks us?” 

Her voice is small, her eyes still far away, gazing at the broken promise they had just seen and Mike moves closer to her on instinct, grabbing her hands and she warily looks up at him. 

“El, a lot of things have tried to break us. More than is normal, I suppose. But we’re still together. That’s—that’s really cool and the relationships we’ve seen fall apart? They didn’t have the strength that we do. I believe in us, in this,” he finishes, gesturing between them before taking her hands again and tracing circles around her knuckles. 

She seems to accept this on some level, her lips pursed together and she nods slowly, still not meeting his gaze. When she shifts, he catches a glimpse of fear in her eyes and he softens. 

“What are you afraid of, El?” he whispers. Her shoulders slump and he can tell her avoidance of his gaze isn’t because she’s skittish anymore, but rather because she’s thinking. 

“I’m afraid you’re going to realize that—that you’d be stuck with me and freak out and leave. Marriage is huge, Mike. You’d be stuck with me. Forever. I don’t even want to be stuck with me forever.” 

He knows she has insecurities, bad ones, but her words punch him in the chest, hard. She keeps going before he can stop her. 

“You don’t have to marry me, you know. I don’t—I don’t want to hold you back or be pre-sump-tuous. If you—if you meet another girl, Mike, please marry her if she’s better. Most girls are.”

She says it so plainly like it’s an obvious fact that the whole world should know and he almost feels like throwing up, he’s that horrified. The edges of his vision grow fuzzy and he’s aware that his mouth is opened in shock, but he can’t seem to close it. 

“El Hopper, what are you saying?” 

She recoils instantly, ripping her hands from his and wrapping her arms around herself, shrinking into the couch, but he keeps going. 

“What have I done to show you that I don’t want you to be my wife someday?” His heart pounds—he hasn’t said it out loud yet, but this is no time to shy away from his doubts because she has them too and he’s baffled. 

“Of course I want to marry you, I don’t want to marry anyone but you. It’s all I think about these days, is getting to spend the rest of my life with you. That’s all I want, El. Getting to marry you would be an honor, that I do not take for granted, by the way. It’s not something I want because I have to. Please believe me, I want it because I love you.” 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers and his heart clenches even more at the ambiguity of her statement. Sorry because she doesn’t believe he loves her? Sorry because she has doubts? Sorry because she doesn’t want to be with him anymore? 

“Why are you sorry, El? You’ve done nothing wrong, I just—“

“No, sorry I feel this way. I believe you, I promise I do. It’s hard not to worry that you’ll suddenly change your mind as soon as it’s real, though. That you’ll get scared and back out or shut down or leave me or—or something. Sorry.” 

He shakes his head, scooting even closer and reaches for her hands again, grasping them tightly. 

“Look, it’s normal to have fears. Everyone does, and especially about something so huge. And yeah, what we’ve seen hasn’t been the best example, has it?” He comments with a grim smile and she shakes her head, pressing her lips together. Her eyes are hopeful and he’s falling into them.

“It won’t be perfect. But I know we can make it work, El. And we don’t have to rush anything, we have plenty of time to just enjoy where we’re at right now. We can worry about marriage later, I—I just want you right now and we can figure it out as we go. Is that okay?” 

A small smile turns her lips up and he strokes her knuckles with his thumbs, the anxious knot in his stomach slowly starting to unravel. He truly does believe they’ll be okay. Nothing in their journey lines up with the journeys of the relationships they’ve watched fall apart. He understands her fears, he does, but his faith in them is strong. They’re going to make it. And he can’t wait until she gets to be his wife. 

Her brow creases once again and he holds his breath. 

“But what if, Mike?” 

“We won’t.” 

She looks at him, really looks at him, finally. He holds her gaze steadily, breathing through the urges to look away. It’s intense, but so are they. 

“I want to marry you,” she whispers and his stomach has never flipped so fast. 

“Someday. I want to marry you too, El.”

With a start, he realizes she’s rubbing circles on his left ring finger and he swallows roughly, the gravity of her implication heavy and wonderful. He raises her hand to his lips, kissing it once, twice, and she giggles softly. 

“Are you ready to head back out there?” he murmurs as the moment passes and she nods, following his lead when he stands up and takes her with him. 

“Mike.” 

“Hmm?” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

Gone are the days when those words get stuck in his throat, choppy and rushed when they finally break free. His need to let her know what he feels for her overcame his bashfulness a while ago and he leaned into it, his expressions becoming more and more confident. It makes her stand a little straighter, her eyes shine a little brighter and he adores her. 

They make their way out of the room with their hands tightly clasped and as they push open the door to the ballroom, he sees that all the women of the party are heading towards the middle of the room. The bride, who looks like she wasn’t crying ten minutes ago, is standing at the front of the pack, a bouquet in her hand and El looks up at him expectantly, the question evident on her face. 

“Yeah, of course, go join them,” he tells her and she smiles, before skipping over to the group. He had explained this tradition to her before they came and her excitement for it made him blush at the time. Now, he just chuckles and makes his way back to their table, taking a seat as the women begin counting down. When they reach zero, his aunt turns and throws the bouquet and it sails up, up, up before arching down—

And lands with a plop in Nancy’s hands. 

Her face turns a bright red, but she looks giddy and pleased as she peeks a look at Jonathan, who’s standing off to the side and Mike can see the same goofy grin on his face as well. She waltzes over to him, but he stops watching them as he sees his girlfriend wiggling her way out of the crowd. She reaches for his hands when he’s close enough and he rises, grasping them and pulling her close enough to kiss her forehead. 

“Someday,” he hears her murmur and he grins. 

“Someday,” he whispers back. “Promise.” He scatters kisses down her temple, her cheek, her jaw, whispering his promise to her over and over against her skin until she cups his face in her hands and brings her lips to his. He kisses her deeply until she pulls back just in the slightest. 

“Someday, I promise,” she tells him. “I’ll say yes.”


	4. Christmas (Post- S2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El's first Christmas is nothing short of magical.

A low voice eases her into consciousness that morning.

“El...Kid, wake up...El…

Hey, it’s Christmas morning.”

Her eyes fly open to see Hopper standing over her, his hand on her shoulder. 

It’s Christmas morning. 

A wave of joy hits her and she breaks out in a grin. It looks like she had been able to fall asleep after all last night, after tossing and turning in anticipation for this day to come.

She bounces out of bed and gives Hopper a big hug around his middle. 

“Christmas!” she exclaims and he chuckles as he hugs her back. 

“Yeah, Christmas. Now, get dressed and we’ll head over to the Wheeler’s soon, alright?” She nods her head, her wild hair bouncing with her enthusiasm and he smiles before he turns and leaves her room.

So this is what it feels like to wake up on Christmas morning. Mike had tried to explain this sensation to her, but she understands now. Her chest has a fizzing elation swirling around it and she feels like singing at the top of her lungs. She settles for quietly humming that one Christmas carol about a reindeer she heard on the radio as she pulls on her clothes for the day, smiling when she hears the sound of pancakes being flipped.

They eat breakfast quickly and El can’t stop chatting about the day to come. 

“They said we were going sled-ding near his house,” she’s in the middle of telling him, as she wolfs down her eggs.

“And where are you going to get a sled for that?” Hopper asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“Lucas said he has an extra. And Mike said we could share his if I wanted,” she replies, the butterflies growing stronger as she pictures flying down a hill, clinging to Mike and spending the afternoon with her friends without a care in the world. When Hopper opens his mouth to retort, as she knew he would, she looks him square in the eye and simply says, “It’s Christmas,” because this special day is finally here and she’s planning on being by Mike’s side for as long as she can today whether her dad likes it or not.

As they finish up, El runs back to her room to throw on her coat and peeks outside to see thick snowflakes fluttering softly from the sky. Her breath fogs up the window as she gazes at the white blanket that covered the ground while she slept last night. She smiles and turns to scoop up the present that’s been sitting by her bed for a week, planting a tiny kiss on it as she heads for the door.

The party had agreed not to get gifts for each other this year since they blew every last penny on games at the arcade and they were still too young to have jobs. But not getting one for Mike wasn’t an option in El’s mind. He had given her so much and she knew she could never repay him, but she could still try. And besides, she can’t wait to see the look on his face.

Hopper’s already gotten the car started by the time she walks out of the cabin, her boots crunching on the snow-covered ground, the snowflakes sticking to her hair. He brushes them off of her curls as she climbs into the front seat and she scrunches her nose playfully in return. He laughs as he flips on the radio and they spend the car ride singing off-key to their favorite Christmas carols and laughing when they completely screw up the words. 

She’s bubbling with excitement when they finally pull up to the Wheeler household and she leaps out of the car the second it stops. By the time Hopper gets out of the driver’s seat, she’s already rung the doorbell, taking a step back and fiddling nervously with her coat sleeves. The door swings open a few moments later to reveal Mrs. Wheeler, who smiles brightly and wipes her hands on her apron. A wonderful aroma seeps out into the crisp winter air and El takes a deep breath in, her stomach growling despite just having breakfast a few minutes ago.

“Good morning Eleanor, it’s nice to see you!” she says. 

She had heard Mike talk about El for so long, that it only made sense to keep her confusion to a minimum and stick with a name that would decrease her suspicion of the nickname her son had given her. She doesn’t know the full story and everyone involved plans on keeping it that way. 

“Merry Christmas Karen,” Hopper says, coming up behind El. “Thanks for letting us crash your party.” 

“My pleasure!” she responds and El is about to ask where her favorite person in the world is when Karen answers that question in her next sentence. 

“Mike’s been begging me to have Eleanor over for Christmas since the beginning of this month if you can believe it.” 

She has no problem believing that. 

“He’s still asleep upstairs, but you’re welcome to wait in the living room.”

By the time she finishes her sentence, El has already entered the house and is headed straight for the staircase after placing her presents under the tree. She ignores Hopper’s protests behind her and silently climbs up the steps to the second floor, tiptoeing to his room. She pauses outside his door, taking a moment to relish in the anticipation of seeing him because she’s here and it’s Christmas morning and he’s on the other side of this barrier and all she has to do is knock. She lets the excitement fizz and bubble in her chest before finally she lifts her hand. 

Knock knock. Knock. Knock knock knock. 

There’s a brief moment of silence in which she holds her breath before she hears a sleepy “Come in, El.” 

She happily turns the knob and steps into his room, the familiarity of it making a warm, fuzzy feeling spread throughout her. This and the blanket fort downstairs are her two favorite places to be in this world. 

Her eyes land on him laying in his bed and her heart swells at the sight of him still trying to wake up. She shuts the door behind her and crosses to his bedside. He flops over from his stomach to his back so he can see her more clearly and yawns, rubbing at his eyes.

“Good morning,” he murmurs and reaches his hand out to her. She smiles softly and kneels by his bed, clasping her hand around his as a comfortable silence stretches between the two. Rubbing her thumb against the back of his hand, she lifts her other hand to lovingly brush away the hair that falls over his eyes. He smiles at the contact and watches her through sleepy eyes as she strokes his hair with her fingers, tracing lazy trails along his scalp like he’s done to her countless times before, and finding the way he’s slowly blinking adorable. She wants so badly to curl up beside him and take him in her arms, but presents are waiting for them downstairs, and she knows if she did that, she’d never want to leave. 

She’s skimming the back of her fingers along his cheek, marveling at how soft his skin is and making her way back up to his hairline, when his eyes suddenly widen and his body tenses. 

“Mike, what’s wrong?” she asks, her panic spiking, but it all fades away when a grin spreads across his face. 

“Today’s Christmas!” he whispers and she nods her head as she smiles, happy to see his brain has finally woken up fully. 

He sits up and kicks off his blankets, just as excited as she was when she woke up. She quickly pecks him on the cheek, before rising to her feet and saying, “I’ll wait for you outside, okay?” 

“Okay,” he responds with a nod and she smiles at him before she heads for the door. 

“El?” 

She turns around. 

“Yes?” 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he tells her with a sincerity that makes her stomach flip. 

“I am too,” she replies and takes one last moment to soak him in before she exits his room to give him some privacy. 

She meant that. She’s so glad that she’s here, in this house, on this morning, with this boy, and soon with all her friends. 

Once he’s dressed, he exits his room and takes her by the hand, intertwining their fingers as she practically drags him down the stairs. Her enthusiasm is a tad bit childish, but no one even thinks to judge her as she takes a seat right by the Christmas tree, sneaking a peek at the presents wrapped neatly underneath it. 

It was her first Christmas, after all.

Someone clears their throat. 

“Merry Christmas to you too, El,” she hears and she finally notices Dustin and his mom are sitting on the couch. She grins and stands up, going to hug her friend.  
“Merry Christmas Dustin,” she replies and as soon as the words are out of her mouth, the doorbell rings. Soon, the Byers’ are piling into the house, followed quickly by the Sinclair’s, who have brought Max with them. It all happens so fast, but suddenly, everyone she cares about is standing in the same room, chatting away with one another. She’s giving out hugs left and right, talking with everyone she can and soaking in the cheerfulness that comes with this day. 

After a while, she finds herself beside Hopper and tugs on his sleeve. When he glances down at her, she says, “Presents?” because they’re just sitting there under the tree begging to be opened and she’s getting impatient. 

He sighs and ruffles her hair, but when he says nothing, she adds, “Please?” 

“Okay, kid,” he finally replies and calls into the crowd, “El’s ready to open presents, does anyone else want to?” 

“Is that even a question?” is Max’s immediate reply and the party scrambles to the tree while everyone else slowly finishes their conversations and finds a seat around the living room.

The next half hour is chaos as gifts are exchanged, wrapping paper is thrown, kids are celebrating when they see what they got, tears are shed when a few heartfelt cards are read and tackling hugs are given out of gratitude.

However, no one could have possibly been more excited than Michael Wheeler when he opened an Atari. El hears his shout of enthusiasm and rushes to his side to see what he got, only to peer at the box in confusion as the rest of his friends congratulate him like he just won a prize.

“It’s a gaming system!” he explains quickly to her before he goes to thank his parents profusely. 

“Just wait until you play this, you’re gonna love it!” Will says to her as he reads the side of the box and she smiles at him, already looking forward to learning how this gadget works. 

Things are finally starting to die down and Mike is sitting with El in the corner as they flip through the “Everything You Need To Know About Star Wars” book Hopper had given her when out of the blue, Mrs. Wheeler says, “Mike, would you like to open El’s gift?” 

El’s stomach drops as she feels her face heat up and her eyes grow wide. She hadn’t meant for the rest of her friends to know she had gotten a present just for him and she hadn’t meant for him to open it in front of everyone. Biting her lip, she sneaks a glance at the people gathered around the living room, cringing at how many of them are just staring at the two of them. She forces herself to look at Mike and is expecting anything but the expression on his face that she finds. 

He looks surprised, but she recognizes a hint of something else. He almost looks...relieved and she touches his arm lightly. 

“Mike?” she whispers, her eyes darting around his face. “I, um...I got you something too, El,” he says, a gentle smile creeping onto his face. Whatever bad feeling had settled itself in her chest disappears as she feels herself light up. 

They silently agree that neither of them wants anyone to be there when they exchange gifts, so Mike leans over and whispers “Later?” in her ear and she grins up at him as she replies, “Later.” 

Later doesn’t come until the end of the day, after El has had one of the most amazing holidays of her life. She eats so much food, she feels like she’s about to explode, she plays Atari with her friends until her eyes glaze over, and she laughs so much her stomach hurts. And on top of everything, she’s the most relaxed she’s been in a long time. No one has any responsibilities to worry about and everyone in the Wheeler household is content right where they are, surrounded by the people they’ve come to call family over the past couple of years. For a whole day, everyone is focused solely on being with each other and it leaves her feeling loved immensely. These are her people and this is her home.

But the best part is that the day ends with a moment that she will cherish for the rest of her life...

“I don’t think I’ve ever been colder,” Dustin declares as the six of them trudge through the Wheeler front door, kicking off their snow boots and throwing their snow-covered jackets on the floor, much to Mrs. Wheeler’s dismay. 

“What about that one time I pushed you into the river?” Will offers with a smug grin and El watches as Dustin’s face goes from confusion to horror to resolution. 

“You’re right, that was worse. I couldn’t feel my fingers for an hour!” he replies dramatically and beside her, Mike rolls his eyes. 

“You ended pulling all of us in, remember? It wasn’t that bad!” he shoots back at his friend with a grin as they make their way to the living room.

They had just gotten back from the sledding hill, where they had spent their time building the coolest ramps they could out of the snow and racing each other over and over again down the hill until they were panting from the number of times they had to climb back up to the top. A light snowfall had begun to descend by then and the sun was threatening to slip behind the horizon, so they had called it a day, walking back to Mike’s in good spirits. Their bodies, however, were freezing and heat from indoors was much appreciated.

“Kids, come grab your hot chocolate!” Mrs. Wheeler calls from the kitchen and they immediately perk up, El especially, having recently discovered the perfection that is Karen’s hot chocolate. 

“El, would you grab me a cup?” Mike asks as he heads over to the fireplace, kneeling in front of it to start the fire. She nods and happily enters the kitchen, where she finds six mugs sitting on the counter, the steam making her mouth water. Slipping in front of her friends, she manages to snag the two with the most whipped cream on them, earning her a round of good-natured teasing from the rest of the gang.

The fire is crackling and the lights have dimmed when she returns to the living room, making the Christmas tree cast a gentle glow on the walls. With the snow falling outside the window, it looks like something off of a postcard.

Mike has settled himself on the couch with a thick blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders and he smiles when she enters the room, beckoning her over. She hands him one of the mugs she’s holding but is surprised when he sets it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. He looks back up at her and, clutching the end of the blanket, stretches out his arm to create a space for her to snuggle up against him. She smiles happily, sitting down beside him and he wraps his arms as well as the blanket around her. Before he pulls her against him, he gives her a line of soft, tender kisses, starting at her shoulder and slowly pressing his lips along her neck, ending with a peck on her cheek that makes her shiver and his actions warm her up quicker than the chocolatey goodness she’s holding ever could. 

She settles back against him, pulling her knees up, and he envelops her in his arms, the blanket creating a cocoon for the two of them to rest in together. Her head lays against his chest and she listens to his heart softly thrumming underneath her ear as she sips on her hot chocolate, smiling softly when she realizes their breaths are in synch. 

They stay nestled against each other like that for a while, gazing lazily at the Christmas tree and listening to the hushed conversations of the rest of their friends. When she finishes the drink in her hand, she levitates the now-empty mug over to the coffee table, enjoying the way Mike chuckles at that and rotates so she can wrap her arms around his chest, burrowing further into his side and he pulls the blanket tighter around them, laying his cheek on top of her head. She sighs contently, wishing she could stay right here forever, knowing full well that if she did she’d never get tired of this. 

After a little while, Jonathan pokes his head up from the basement and calls, “Hey boys! And...girls,” he adds on sheepishly. “We’re playing Atari down here, you guys want to join?” 

There’s a chorus of whoops and hollers as their friends pop up from their spots around the living room and rush to the basement steps to join the teenagers and whoever else happens to be down there. Mike, however, doesn’t budge. Not because El wouldn’t let him, but because he would rather stay here than go join everyone else downstairs. And suddenly, they’re alone for the first time since this morning. There’s a content silence if they ignored the random shouts of excitement coming from the basement, and Mike is tracing lazy circles on El’s back when she realizes something. 

“Mike?” she whispers and he hums in response. “Is it later now?” 

She tilts her head up to watch a grin light up his face. 

“Yeah, you’re right. It is,” he replies, squeezing her shoulders. She kisses the underside of his jaw before he releases her and both of them stand up, El headed for the tree and Mike headed for his room.

They meet up on the stairs, each of them shyly hiding their presents behind their backs. “Do you want to go first?” he asks as they take a seat on the steps and she nods, taking a breath and handing the gift bag to him. She finds she’s nervous for a split second as he rustles around in the bag, his hand swimming through the tissue paper before he finds what he’s looking for. The look on his face when he pulls it out lights up her entire world. 

It’s a picture of just the two of them in a frame Hopper had lying around the cabin. Jonathan took it the night of the Snow Ball and when she found out he had it, she begged him to give it to her, knowing she wanted to give it to Mike.

That entire night, their hands had remained clasped together after they finally left the dance floor, happy as can be. That’s the first thing she likes about this picture; they’re standing side by side, their fingers laced together. The second thing she likes is it was taken a second after he said something to her that made her smile. This moment, forever frozen in time, shows her staring up at him with a smile gracing her lips and he’s staring into her eyes with a grin that makes her heart flip-flop. They’re lost in each other and she’s grateful Jonathan captured it.

“El, I...I love it!” he manages to get out, looking back up at her, his eyes dancing. “It’s so...us. You know?” 

Yes. Yes, she does know. It depicts them perfectly and she wanted him to have it since she knew it existed. 

“Thank you so much, I’m going to keep this forever,” he tells her and she bows her head, hearing how truly grateful he was in his voice. 

“You’re welcome,” she replies, that fizzy sensation exploding in her body. 

“Do you want to choose where it goes?” he asks and she nods her head, taking his hand that he offers to help her stand up.

Once they’re in his room, she knows exactly where it should go. She takes the frame from his hand and walks over to his dresser, placing it right beside his science fair trophy, the one with the picture she had pointed to that day last year. He’ll be able to see it every morning when he wakes up and he squeezes her hand as she beams up at him. 

“And...um...this is for you,” he says quietly, letting go of her fingers to slip the small black box he’s been holding into her hand. He seems nervous, as he starts fidgeting with the end of his sleeves now that his hands are free. She turns her attention back to the box she’s holding, excitement swirling in her chest as she takes off the lid.

Her breath catches in her throat. It’s absolutely stunning.

Inside, resting on a small pillow is a diamond-studded hair clip that sparkles when she moves it side to side. On the very end of it is the shiny outline of a heart and, best of all, resting inside that heart is a silver E. It’s perfect and she feels a lump form in her throat as she gazes at what she’s holding. 

“Mike,” she whispers shakily, unable to find any other words. He says nothing, just picks up the clip and opens the clasp, his eyes landing on a spot just above her ear. Stepping in closer, he takes a lock of her hair in his fingers and slips the clip around it, closing it gently. His fingers brush her cheek as he lowers them.  
“Beautiful,” he murmurs and she doesn’t try to stop the tears that fall from her lashes when she blinks. The emotions that are coursing throughout her body are overwhelmingly strong and they make words begin to tumble from her mouth.

“Mike, I love you,” she blurts out suddenly. She watches as a blush spreads across his cheeks and his gaze turns downwards, a dopey grin turning up the corners of his lips. But it’s not good enough, he needs to know the full truth. The extent of her feelings for him are far beyond her ability to comprehend them, much less her ability to put them into words, but nothing could stop her from trying anyway.

“Mike, I’m serious,” she says, lifting her hands to cradle his face and his eyes flit back to hers. She fights the urge to lose herself in them and takes a breath before continuing. 

“Your eyes say you don’t believe me. I know you think you’re not good enough, but you’re wrong. You’re more than good enough for me. I mean that Mike, I yearned for you for three hundred and fifty-three days.” 

Yearned. That had been her word of the day on Day 89 when the pain of watching Mike call her with tears streaming down his face made her chest feel like it was going to implode and she wanted to touch him more than anything she had ever wanted before. It had hurt so badly. Hopper took notice of her tear-stained face at breakfast the next morning and did the only thing he could think of doing. He gave her a word so she could understand an emotion she couldn’t express. 

But those days were over. That thought brings a tidal wave of emotion every time, just like the intense one that crashes over her now. 

“You’re my everything, Mike. I love you,” she finishes.

He presses his lips to hers and her eyes flutter closed as she responds eagerly, parting her lips ever so slightly to deepen their kiss. His hands grip at her waist and her arm wraps tightly around his shoulders, her other hand cupping his face. Their lips move against each other in a rhythm, matching the other’s movements in a way that only they can as they kiss one another fiercely. 

When they pull away breathlessly, they stay there, El soaking in the sight of the boy in front of her. He rests his forehead against hers for a moment before she decides she hasn’t had enough and swoops in for another kiss. Just as her mouth is about to touch his, he lifts his hand and runs his thumb along her lower lip. They’re so close that she can feel his breath against her lips as he tenderly whispers, “Merry Christmas, El.” 

She giggles, pure delight flowing out of her and she wraps both arms around his shoulders. Just before he pulls her in for a long, passionate kiss that will make her feel warm from her head down to her toes, she whispers her response. 

“Merry Christmas, Mike.”


	5. Resolution (Post-S3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Mike's New Year's Resolution is rooted in insecurity, El does her best to erase his fears.

“Mike, what’s a resolution?” 

He looks down at her, his fingers pausing from where they were running through her hair and she shifts to see him better in the dim light of the basement, the television playing some black and white Christmas movie. 

“It’s like a goal that people make, usually for a longer amount of time,” he explains. “A New Years resolution is a goal you set at the beginning of each year that says what you wanna change that year and people see how long they can keep that goal. I was always bad at them because I gave up within the first week, but you could make one if you want.” 

She hums, settling her head back against his chest and his fingers resume their path through her hair as her mind begins to whir. 

What wasn’t her goal for this next year? 

The one they were finishing was both the best and worst year of her life. Before July, she woke up every morning knowing she was safe and wanted by Hopper, her friends and her beloved boyfriend who she couldn’t get enough of. She was happy, and she’s now envious of the girl who had everything she could ever need. 

But life had gotten a little too good, hadn’t it? 

It’s hard not to worry about what’s coming next year. They haven’t had a break from supernatural happenings in three years, although it’d been longer than that for her. It seemed like every time she finally could say she was normal, someone decided that wasn’t okay and threw a nearly insurmountable challenge at her.

At least this time, if it came for her, the threat would be far from Hawkins away from most of the people she loved. She wouldn’t be able to fight it though, not without her powers. 

What if that was the end?

No, it couldn’t be, that’s not going to be the end of her story, she decides, flinging the thoughts away and snuggling further into Mike’s side. 

“What’s your resolution?” she asks him during a commercial break, speaking the new word slowly. 

“I, um—I don’t have one yet. I haven’t thought about it, I guess,” he replies, shrugging the shoulder she’s not resting on. 

“Well, I think you’re perfect just as you are,” she states, leaning up to kiss his cheek and her heart warms at the bashful smile that lights up his face. 

“Thanks, El. I wouldn’t agree, but I think you’re pretty perfect yourself.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Pretty and perfect.” 

He squeezes her tighter as she bites her lip, her face warming up deliciously and she hides it in the crook of his neck. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. 

-

Their New Year’s party was a spontaneous affair. It started with Max declaring they should ring in the new year together, to which she got multiple jabs that she just wanted to kiss Lucas when the ball dropped. She’d just huffed and let them conclude on their own that it would be way more fun to eat food and do whatever the heck they wanted to do until midnight as opposed to being bored and going to bed early because their parents told them to. Mike volunteered his house and their plans were set. 

It wasn’t anything extravagant—just a few hours of board games and boxes and boxes of pizza, but they were all relaxed, happy. El didn’t take a single moment for granted, knowing that it was better to appreciate where she was than worry about leaving them to go back home next week. Nights like these are what keeps her going, so she stored every fit of laughter, sentimental comment, and beaming smile away where she could find them later. 

It was ten minutes until midnight when Mike caught her attention. 

“El?” 

“Yes?” 

“Um—come with me for a minute?” 

She nods and her chest fizzes with warmth as he takes her hand and gently leads her out of the living room and up the stairs. He stops at the top, checking over her shoulder to make sure no one followed him and takes a breath as he clasps both her hands. 

“I—I figured out what my resolution is.” 

He pauses, licking his lips nervously and she takes a small step closer to him, watching him patiently. 

“I, um—haven’t treated you all that well this year and I’m sorry.” 

She blinks, her brow furrowing as she scrambles through her memories to find what he’s talking about. Apart from when Hopper supposedly forced him to lie, he’s been nothing but compassionate and loving in their relationship. She goes to correct him, but he continues before she can interrupt. 

“I lied to you, I held you back from the world, I’ve said some stupid things and—and I know I’m not perfect. I know you think I am but I’m not.” 

Oh. He hadn’t let go of the statement she made a few days ago. She hadn’t meant for it to bug him, but his mind had other plans. 

“But I want to try,” he continues and she’s shaking her head, her hands slipping out of his to hold tight to his arms. He stops, words still on his tongue but they halt as she stares at him intensely. She’s not sure how she intends on articulating how much of a bad idea that is, but she’s good at making things up as she goes. 

“You don’t have to change anything,” she tells him, pouring all the sincerity she has into her voice. “I don’t want you to be perfect, I want you to be you.” 

“But I hurt you. My own stupid actions hurt you.” 

“I hurt you too,” she responds quietly and drops her hands from his arms. “And I’m sorry. But I—I don’t think I can be perfect.” 

“You don’t have to be.” 

“And you do?” 

She’s pinned him, she can see it in the way his brow furrows and he presses his lips together. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles and visibly deflates. “I don’t know, I just want to be better, I guess. You deserve the world, you know.” 

She hums. “Then, I guess I have everything I deserve because I have you.” 

Mike’s cheeks go pink and she takes it as a victory because her Mike rarely blushes and it’s only ever around her. She finds it adorable. 

He’ll always be enough for her and it frustrates her when he believes he’s anything less. Then again, she often finds herself at an impasse, because she most definitely does not believe she’s enough for him. Perfect is a standard neither of them will achieve and maybe someday they’ll be okay with that. For now, she’ll settle for reassuring her boyfriend that he need not strive for anything he isn’t as long as she doesn’t have to. They have each other, flaws and all, and that fills her heart more than perfection ever could. 

Her stomach flips as Mike leans in and her eyes slip shut, only to open in confusion when his lips land on her cheek, although it's thrilling nonetheless. 

She turns her head to kiss him properly, but he shakes his head, his eyes holding something teasing and knowing. 

“Not until midnight,” he says with a grin and she pouts, not caring that midnight is less than five minutes away. He chuckles before reaching down and slipping his hands into hers. “It’ll be worth the wait, I promise.” 

With a playful, dramatic sigh, she turns and starts tugging him towards the steps before stopping when he says her name, his tone more serious and soft. She glances back at him and he pulls her closer. 

“I’ve changed my resolution.” 

He pauses and she takes a step towards him, urging him to continue. 

“My resolution for this year is to love you.” 

She pauses. “But...you already do that.” 

He grins and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Then it’ll be easy to keep,” he replies. 

This boy. 

Her heart warms deliciously and she pulls back enough to press her lips to his for a moment. He goes slack for all of a few seconds before he’s playfully protesting that she cheated because it’s not midnight yet and she laughs as he pokes her side, right where she’s ticklish. She’s still giggling as she leans in again, but Lucas calls up to them to “stop making out because the ball’s about to drop and you can do that then.” 

Mike rolls his eyes but grabs her hand anyway and they dash down the stairs together to find their friends all crowded around the television which shows there’s only a minute left of 1985. 

“I’m not gonna miss this year,” Will suddenly declares and no one has to ask him to clarify why. “At least we made it,” Max offers and there’s a round of enthusiastic agreements because they survived and they survived together. 

The countdown begins and El smiles, gripping Mike’s hand as her friends chant the numbers along with the announcer. 

“I love you,” she whispers at three. 

“I love you too,” he whispers at two. 

They’re kissing at one and the clock rolls to midnight. 

It was 1986 and they were unstoppable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet for the end of an entire decade!
> 
> I haven't said this yet, but the response to these has been absolutely wonderful. Thank you to all who have commented or left kudos, all your support truly means the world to me! I'm excited to share more and continue to watch this project grow. 
> 
> Also, if you ever have a story idea or even a moment you'd like to see between these two, I'm always happy to turn your thoughts into a story!
> 
> Thank you all again and I'll talk to you later! Much love!


	6. Crush (Post-S2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A post-closing the gate one shot with a twist.

It seemed to Mike that there were three categories that middle schoolers fall into: having a hopeless crush on someone unattainable, refusing to have a crush, or having a relationship that was unstable and not based on genuine feelings. 

Dating in middle school had always baffled Mike. To him, the only benefit of a flimsy, predictable “relationship” was a few weeks' worth of popularity before the couple split dramatically. The ones he had watched crumble were so fake that they almost made him lose his general hope in love. 

The last girl he liked was in third grade. He doesn’t even remember her name, just that she’d tried to tell the teacher one time that Troy was bullying him and Will on the playground. When that didn’t work, she hung out with them for a few days to keep them safe, before she got bored of their nerdy nature and moved onto another group. He remembers being mesmerized by her, only to have his heart broken when he realized she only associated with them because she had nothing better to do. And after that, he’d just...shut down. He still found girls attractive, but none of them were catching his eye. 

Maybe somehow his heart knew. Maybe it knew she was out there, that she was getting closer and it carved out her place in his heart before he’d even met her. 

It took her running away and coming back to save him from jumping off a cliff to finally admit that he had a crush on her. He'd tried denying it-- he’d only known her for a few days, how could he possibly already have feelings for her? 

That was a lie. He knew how. He knew from the moment she sweetly bid him good night and a storm of butterflies rushed through him that she wasn’t an ordinary girl and he didn’t have ordinary feelings for her. 

Still, saying he had a crush on her had never really clicked, especially after she was torn out of his life, taking his heart with her. 

She was more than a label. A label had boundaries, restrictions, things it couldn’t be. With El, their relationship and how he felt about her was so ambiguous and vast that it refused to fit within any box he tried to put around it. She was his friend and more than a friend. She was his crush and his soulmate. There simply was no word that could encompass it all. Except...except...

No, he wasn’t there yet. He knew some part of him understood truly how deep and bottomless what he felt for her was. The thought scared him in a way because right now, he doesn’t even know if he’ll ever see her again and to dedicate his heart and soul to her forever without laying eyes on her ever again...

No. He shakes his head as if to fling that thought as far away from him as possible. She’s out there. Without a doubt. He can feel her, not in a weird way but in a way where he just...knows. 

It’s Day 309 and he’s found himself contemplating the juxtaposition between the soulful, passionate feelings he holds for the most amazing girl he’ll ever meet and the sheer idiocracy that is middle school “romance”. 

None of them get it. None of the classmates chattering mindlessly around him right now in their math class understand what it means to care for someone so deeply that you would die for them. From the bits and pieces he’s picked up, the popular girls to the left of him are convinced they’ve found their “one true man” and the jocks behind him are trying to figure out how to earn their affections and it’s all so petty that Mike can’t do anything but roll his eyes and block them out the best he can. 

That is, until the kid behind him taps him on his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. 

“Wheeler, who do you have a crush on?”

His eyes narrow just the tiniest bit, skeptical of the question, before he replies flatly, “I don’t have a crush.” Something twists in his gut as he turns back around in an attempt to end the conversation, but it wasn’t a lie per se. He doesn't technically have one at the moment since his feelings had expanded well beyond that a long time ago. 

There was no way he's going to tell this jock that though. It wasn’t information he was planning on telling anyone, much less the younger brother of a high school quarterback he didn’t care about. 

Much to his annoyance, the subject isn’t dropped. “Come on man, everyone has a crush. Just tell me.” Mike all but scoffs at his plea, glancing back over his shoulder to glare at him in frustration. “Leave me alone, Brett.” “Hey, I’m curious,” the boy responds. “Just wanna see who you’ve got your eye on.” 

Mike chooses not to comment on that, praying that this exchange is over. He goes back to the worksheet they’ve been handed and thanks the heavens that he shut Brett up. 

“Is she cute?” 

His mind traitorously flashes to El’s face, her sparkling eyes looking up at him, all wide and trusting, her soft cheeks accented by a smile gracing her lips, only for him. 

She’s freaking beautiful. 

A soft heat rises to his cheeks and he tries to shove it back down but it’s enough. 

“Oh ho, you’re blushing, you do like someone, I knew it! What’s her name?” 

Damn it. He hurriedly glances around, making sure none of the popular crowd was drawn to their conversation by his excited outburst, before lowering his voice and replying to him, his tone dark. “You don’t know her. She...she doesn’t go here.” 

It hurts to have to craft a story for her, to make her sound all normal. His El is anything but. She deserves to write her own story.

“Aw c’mon man, not even a name? Who knows, I know a lot of people! C’mon, what’s it start with? A? B? C? D?” 

Oh no. Not this. No, he doesn’t want to do this, please not now. He feels the ache in his chest growing, faster and uglier and he clenches his teeth, willing himself to tune the airhead beside him out as he turns back to face the front of the classroom, but each letter pierces his mind and he braces himself for the inevitable. 

“I? J?” 

He misses her. Oh, how he misses her. 

“K?” 

He sucks in a breath, clenching his fist tightly around his pencil. Here it comes. 

“L?” 

He swallows, hard, the lump in his throat rushing up too fast for him to catch it, his heart torn between anger and despair. How dare he speak the name Mike had given her. It sounds terrible coming from him and he has the dangerous urge to slap the boy. 

This doesn’t go unnoticed. “Oh, it starts with an L?” 

He can’t take this. Visibly shaking with emotion, he throws down his pencil and hurries for the door, ignoring the looks from his classmates and his teacher. He’ll deal with them later, but the grief of losing her is pouring forth without ceasing, scraping his heart in the process and he can’t breathe and none of them get it. 

He locks himself in a bathroom stall and weeps for the girl who he misses beyond words, her comforting eyes scorched into his mind’s eye and he knows he would give anything just to see her looking at him like that again. 

—

“Please. Mike.” 

“I know kid, I know. I’ll take you back to him.” 

She’s fighting with everything she has to stay awake. Sleep is beckoning her with a gentle hand and she wants so badly to give in, but she needs to see him. Her soul aches for him, be held in his arms to make it real that she was no longer separated from him and that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

The whole car ride back to the Byers house is blurry, her vision growing fuzzy as her mind slowly begins to shut down but no, no, no, Mike. 

She whimpers out his name, tears running down her cheeks as she watches the road, urging Hopper to go faster and he takes on hand off the steering wheel to place it on her shoulder, strong and steady. 

“Stay awake, El. He’ll be waiting for you, just stay awake.” 

The sight of the Byers house sends a rush of relief through her and she gathers what little strength she has left to lift her head as the cruiser pulls into the driveway. When the door to the house opens, she can’t help the sob that’s ripped from her throat as Mike comes running out and jumps off the porch. Ignoring how weak she is, she fumbles for the door handle, unlocking it frantically, her hands shaking as she stumbles from the car. 

“El!” he cries, his voice cracking and desperate. She can only see him as he rushes towards her and she forces her feet forward, needing him more than she ever has. Her steps are unstable but nothing could keep her from him. Her arms reach for him, and she barely hears her voice calling his name before he’s suddenly there and he’s hugging her fiercely, one arm around her shoulders, one around her back and she melts against him. His cheek rests against her hair, cocooning her in his arms and she feels safe. Her arms wrap tightly around him, feeling his heartbeat and she never wants to let him go. 

He holds her in a strong embrace as everything comes rushing to the surface and she sobs, hands fisting in his shirt. She presses her face against his shoulder, sobbing for the time they’d lost, for the overwhelming feelings she holds for this boy, for the wound she had just closed, for the story that was ending and the story that was just beginning. 

She hears Mike’s breath hitch and suddenly he’s crying too. Nothing spoken out loud could measure up to the weight and intimacy of this moment, so not a word is said as hands continue to cling desperately to one another, hearts pouring out a year’s worth of unspoken emotions without a shred of shame between them. 

After an eternity, her tears slowly subside and she slowly raises her head to look into the eyes of the one she cares for the most. And for the first time in 353 days, she gets to truly see him. 

He’s a mess, but she’s never been so overjoyed to see anyone in her entire life. Their tear-soaked eyes lock and she’s suddenly breathless, words she’s dying to say getting trapped in her throat as her heart begins to race faster and faster. A smile tugs at the corner of her lips, matching the dopey grin that’s lighting up his face, tears still dripping down his cheeks. 

“You’re here,” he whispers gently, reverently. She lets out a breathless chuckle, squeezing him tighter. 

“I’m here,” she replies, reassuring the both of them. “I...I missed you, Mike. So, so much.” Her throat constricts, her words choked as she falls farther and farther into the eyes she’s been longing to see. Her body is screaming at her to rest, but she shoves it down as deep as she can because the only thing that matters right now is Mike. 

“El, I missed you too. More than I can explain, I...I don’t think I can be away from you for very long again,” he tells her, biting his lip and she knows he’s trying to keep his tears at bay. She shakes her head in agreement, knowing in her heart that the need to be by his side isn’t going to go away now that they’re back together. 

“I can’t either, Mike,” she replies quietly, relieved that he feels the same way. Unspoken sentiments pass between them as they share one more smile before he pulls her back into his arms and she goes willingly.

Of course, that’s when her strength decides to give out and she’s vaguely aware that she’s falling before her vision tunnels and the world goes dark. 

—

Everything hurts. 

As her conscious swims to the surface, the one thing she becomes aware of is how much her body aches. Her head pounds in time to her heartbeat, the dull throbbing painful enough to make her want to fall back asleep. Keeping her eyes shut, she attempts to make herself more comfortable by rolling onto her side, but her body protests, her muscles twinging and she groans, curling up in a ball.

“El?” 

She freezes, the voice not one she was expecting, but the familiarity of it causes her to gasp, her eyes flying open as she remembered where she was and what had happened. 

Dustin is crouching by her bed with a big grin on his face and for a moment, she just stares at him blankly, trying to process what she was seeing. For almost a year she’d woken up to the same confining walls of the cabin, but now she’s lying in a bed at the Byers’ house with one of her best friends at her bedside. And oh, is it good to see him. 

“Do you remember what happened?” He’s asking her quietly, unable to keep the friendly smile of his face and she nods noncommittally, giving him a tiny smile of her own as she struggles to keep her eyes open. “I’m happy to see you,” she mumbles, still not quite piecing together what him being here means. “Yeah, we’re all happy to see you too, we’ve missed our superhero,” he tells her warmly. 

We’re happy. We. That includes... 

A jolt of energy rushes through her and she’s suddenly wide awake, her lungs straining as she gasps and Dustin’s eyes go wide. “El, what’s wrong??” he says hurriedly and she looks straight at him. 

“Mike,” she pleads, suddenly desperate for the ebony-haired boy. “Please, where’s-“ she starts to ask, struggling to push herself up, determined to go find him, but Dustin puts a hand on her arm, gently pushing her back down. 

“Shhh, no, you need to rest. Mike’s down the hall making sure Will’s okay. He spent the whole night in here with you, so trust me, Prince Charming’s eager to see you too.” 

His words send a spark of affection down her spine, her heart bursting at the thought of Mike not wanting to leave her side all night and she can feel a smile begin to light up her face. 

But something else Dustin said catches her attention. 

“Prince...Charming?” she asks curiously, wondering who that was and what it had to do with Mike. Dustin chuckles before replying easily. “Yeah, it’s what you call the dashing hero in a fairy tale that always falls in love with the princess and she falls in love with him. And Mike may not be a dashing hero, but considering the way he looks at you and the major crush you seem to have on him...” he trails off, shrugging his shoulders and she understands what he’s implying, despite one unfamiliar word jumping out at her. 

“Crush?” she asks him, almost in a whisper. Dustin’s eyebrows raise and she shrinks back, afraid she asked about something she should already know, but he laughs softly, shaking his head. “I think you’d rather have Mike explain that one, but I can try anyway. A crush is when you like someone so much that you just want to be by their side and see them smile and make them laugh and hug them and spend time with them. Does that make sense?” 

Someone that you...someone that you...like. 

A friend? 

No, not a friend. Someone like a...someone like a...

Oh. 

Like a crush. 

Like someone that you...

She knows the word. The big one that people on the television always seemed to either shy away from or declare boldly. It’s one she’s mulled over in her head during many restless nights, missing the only person she was convinced she could ever feel that for, but she’s too worn out to continue that contemplation now. Besides, she finally can be with that person again and she’s beginning to worry that she might just die if she doesn’t see him soon. 

“Sorry, I know that must be a lot to take in,” Dustin says, interrupting her thoughts. “We can talk more about it later, but I’m guessing there’s someone you want to see.” He grins when she nods frantically and she watches as he pushes himself to his feet. “Good to see you, El!” he throws over his shoulder before he opens the door and disappears down the hallway, headed to Will’s room. 

Feeling the whispers of sleep trying to beckon her back under, she gingerly pushes herself up, scooting back to rest against the headboard, her shoulder against the wooden frame so she can face the door. Her heart leaps when she hears padded feet rushing down the hallway and she sits up just a little bit straighter, the anticipation flowing through her veins. 

When he suddenly appears in the doorway, relief floods her body, the anxious knot in her stomach disappearing like that. She smiles at him as he makes his way over to her, her hands reaching for him without conscious thought. He grasps them in his own and kneels beside her bedside, his eyes deep and rich with emotion, his thumbs already rubbing small circles over the backs of her hands. 

“Hi,” she whispers, scooting just a little closer to him, basking in the glow of his presence, hoping she’ll never get tired of seeing him. 

“Hi,” he whispers back with a chuckle, a soft grin turning up the corners of his mouth. “How’re you feeling?” he asks, his brow creasing with worry, his eyes darting over her face to check for anything abnormal and a tingle runs up her spine.

She shrugs as much as she can. “Tired and sore,” she replies. “But I’m glad to see you.” Squeezing his hands earnestly, she watches as he bows his head, his smile growing, and his eyes are gleaming when he looks back up. 

“I’m so glad to see you too. I...I have so much I want to tell you, El. And so much I want to hear from you.” 

“We have time,” she tells him quietly because they have all the time in the world to be together and she honestly couldn’t ask for anything more. 

“Yeah, we do,” he agrees, almost in a whisper. “But first, can you stand? You should probably eat something, you’ve been out for a while. And I can help you get cleaned up if you want?” A blush rises to his cheeks when he adds that last part and her stomach flips in adoration because of course his first concern is her wellbeing. She nods, suddenly aware of how gross she feels and he steps back to let her move her aching body out from under the covers. 

After a few tedious minutes of Mike helping her get out of bed, they make their way down to the bathroom, with El explaining in a few short words that she wanted to get cleaned up first. She waves at Hopper when she catches his eye from where he’s standing in the living room and he waves in return, nodding to Mike as a greeting. He nods back and El breathes a sigh of relief, happy Hopper was letting them have this time alone together. 

She heaves her tired body up on the counter when they get to the bathroom and watches as Mike closes the door behind him, leaving only a sliver between them and the rest of the house. She smiles at his thoughtfulness, before speaking up quietly. 

“You can close it,” she tells him and he glances back at her. 

“You sure?” 

She nods, reaching for his hand, which he clasps without hesitation. “I’m with you,” she tells him simply and he grins bashfully, before shutting the door all the way. 

Without letting go of her hand, he bends down and opens the cabinet beside her feet, digging around until he finds a washcloth. When he has to release her to wet it under the faucet, she takes the opportunity to glance at herself in the mirror behind her and gasps at what she sees. 

She looks horrible. Dried blood is caked to the lower half of her face, muddy red and flaking, trailing from her nose, around the corners of her lips and down her chin. It stains her pale skin in a way she does not care for. The shadows around her eyes reflect the exhaustion she feels in her bones, not to mention the makeup that’s smeared down to her cheekbones that makes her look...haunted. The gel in her hair is still stubbornly trying to keep it slicked back, but after sleeping on it for a night, it’s starting to curl back up, the flyaways sticking up in all different directions. 

She’s a disaster. 

“El?” He meets her gaze in the mirror and she turns back to look at him. His brow is furrowed as he searches her eyes with concern and she bows her head, self-conscious as she glances at the washcloth in his hand. 

His free hand comes to cup her cheek and she looks back up at him, a question on the tip of her tongue but he beats her to it. 

“Still pretty,” he whispers, sending a wave of warmth through her and she fights to swallow the lump that forms in her throat. 

Oh, how she’d been longing to hear those words again.

She knows he can see her gratitude and affection when the worry melts from his eyes and he smiles back at her. 

“Is it okay if I clean off your face?” he asks her, wringing out the cloth over the sink. 

“Yes,” she whispers and sits up straighter. Raising the wet cloth to her forehead, he begins to wipe away the sweat and grime using smooth, gentle strokes and with it, every anxiety that had made a home in her mind over the past few days. 

“Déjà vu,” he says suddenly and she looks at him with confusion. 

“Dè...Déjà vu?” 

“Yeah, it’s when you’re doing or saying something that you’ve done before. You get a weird feeling like you’ve gone back in time and you’re living the same moment again.” She smiles softly as he explains this to her, catching onto why he was bringing this up. 

“We’ve done this before,” she says, echoing his words, remembering how he’d cleaned her up in his bathroom after their encounter with the mouthbreathers. He nods, looking her in the eye as he works and she’s starting to believe that she could survive purely off of his gaze if she had to. 

“I...I thought about that day a lot,” he almost whispers, his face darkening marginally. “I should’ve protected you more than I did. I’m so sorry for what happened.” 

She frowns, dumbfounded at his words. If anything, she’s the one that should be apologizing, but he barrels ahead anyway, his voice painfully somber. 

“I always wished...I dunno, I guess I’d always wished I’d done things differently.” Her heart sinks even farther at his words and a flicker of heavy understanding passes between them because she does too. With all of her heart, she wishes she would’ve realized what he meant to her sooner. Even though they couldn’t have possibly foreseen what was to come, the regrets she carried still hurt and it saddens her to know he feels the same. 

Her curiosity soon gets the better of her. “What would you have done differently?” she asks quietly, her stomach flipping when he gently presses a steady hand to the back of her neck as he begins wiping away the dried blood off her chin. He’s silent for a moment, pondering her question before he blows out a breath and she scoots closer to him, wanting him to know that she’s here to listen and she won’t judge what he has to say. 

“I would’ve spent every possible moment by your side,” he finally murmurs. “And...I would’ve kissed you earlier.” 

His face flushes a bright red and something inside her glows at his words. The air around them begins to hum with giddy affection as he sends her a bashful smile and she feels like she’s about to combust from just how strongly she adores him. Her words slip out of her without a second thought. 

“I have a crush on you.” 

The unspoken weight behind her sentence slams into the both of them, breaking the wall they both hid their true feelings behind. The moment is breathless, suspended but she’s never felt more at peace. 

That is, until his eyes start welling up. 

Alarm spikes in her when the first tear falls and she quickly raises her hands to cup his cheeks, worried that she had said the wrong thing or that he doesn’t feel the same way about her. 

“Mike?” Her voice is timid, afraid and it seems to shake him out of the stupor he was in. 

“Sorry, I just...” he starts, before he pauses, sniffing and shaking his head, the tiniest smile inching onto his lips. “I have a crush on you too, El,” he confesses, his heart in his gaze and her own heart leaps for joy, ecstatic that she had earned his affections in return. “Maybe it’s something more, I don’t know,” he continues. “But I spent so long worrying that you didn’t feel the same...” His voice cracks as it trails off. Her heart lurches and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him into an embrace and he wraps his arms around her waist, burying his face against her shoulder. 

She wants to give him a reason never to doubt her feelings for him again. It’s a daunting task, but she’s more than willing to accept the challenge. For now, she whispers, “Please don’t worry, Mike,” and when she feels him smile, she knows it was enough. 

“I’ve wanted to tell you that for a long, long time,” he admits after a few moments have passed. 

She squeezes him, letting his statement sink into her and warm her heart before she whispers, “I have too." He lifts his head at that, his grin goofy and blissful and she knows right then and there that this is forever. Her and him. Him and her. Mike and El. 

Her breath hitches when she sees the intensity in his gaze and the world around them disappears as he slowly begins to lean in, his eyes flickering to her lips. Her pulse begins to race deliciously, and she lets her eyes slip shut as he gets closer and closer and she can feel his stuttered breath against her skin and—

Their lips meet and she could’ve sworn her heart exploded. She’s been dreaming of this for 353 days and now her world has righted itself and she’s never felt more complete.

When he pulls back, his cheeks are flushed, but his eyes sparkle with bliss and she can’t help but smile wider than she has since she reunited with him the previous night.

She breaks the silence first. “Déjà vu,” she quips playfully and he chuckles, his grin growing even more. 

“Yeah, déjà vu,” he agrees. “Only this time, we don’t have to run for our lives.” 

“Good,” she whispers, one hand idly playing with the ends of his hair. “This time, I’m staying.” 

“Good. El?” 

“Yes?” 

“I have a crush on you.” 

“I have a crush on you, too, Mike.” 

But that’s not the entire truth, is it? 

Because El loves Mike. 

And she can’t wait for the day that she tells him.


	7. Fight (Post-S3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a violent encounter with one of her classmates, old trauma begins to resurface for El and Mike desperately tries to help her cope with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter deals with topics of abuse. If that disturbs you in any way, I'd advise you stop reading.  
And don't panic, Mike and El aren't fighting. I haven't established this on this site yet, but it's in my canon that El was abused in the lab. Sorry El...  
That all being said, I hope you enjoy :)

Brian McIntosh was nice enough. He respected his teachers, did what was asked of him and rarely stepped out of line. Yet, the girls in school fawned over him like he was a celebrity and El just didn’t understand it, not that she had any desire to. He was cute and all, but they could do so much better. Not as good as the boy she’d found, of course. 

So when Brian started taking a liking to her, she really didn’t understand. 

She tried to think nothing of it, but suddenly, he was walking her to her classes, smiling at her during the Biology class they shared and hanging around her locker 

Mike had noticed and was less than thrilled. She’d caught him glaring at Brian on more than one occasion and she wasn’t oblivious to how he always kept a hand on her in some way. Not that she minded—he was allowed to touch her as much as he wanted, unlike a certain individual who had now made a habit of walking abnormally close to her. 

Her friends had been urging her to confront him but she had no idea what to confront him about. It wasn’t definite that he was hitting on her and there was a possibility that he just wanted to be friends. El knew a thing or two about loneliness and she’d seen him hanging out with other people on occasion, but maybe he was just looking for someone new. 

Or maybe she was too nice for her own good like Max kept telling her she was. 

Sure, Brian’s actions were starting to make her uncomfortable, but she knew how to look after herself. If he crossed a line, she’d make sure he regretted it. Until then, he was her friend and she did her best to make it clear that that’s all he could ever be. Some people, however, made it very clear that they wanted Brian as more than a friend. 

El had never been a fan of Shannon Warner. She’d never heard the girl say something that wasn’t borderline passive-aggressive or blatantly mean. She didn’t talk to her unless their Bio class demanded it and even then, their short discussions left her feeling uncomfortable. Ignoring her seemed to be the best way to avoid her attention, so El was more confused than anything when Shannon called out her name after class was dismissed.

She glances up to find her weaving her way across the classroom, her heeled boots clicking on the tile as she makes her way towards her and El eyes her warily, her smug expression making her stomach clench. 

“Just so you know,” the girl says, her hip popped and her hands on the desk in front of her. “Brian could do a lot better than you. So I suggest you stay away from him, okay? You’re distracting him.” 

She can’t help it. She rolls her eyes. 

“He’s just a friend. I already have a boyfriend and it’s not him. I’m not interested,” she explains calmly and pushes past her before she can say anything else.

She can feel Shannon’s furious gaze digging into her head behind her, but she’s been in this school long enough to know she’s not worth it. 

Interdimensional monsters haven’t been able to take her down. Shannon is going to have to do a lot more than talk to her to be intimidating. 

She forgets about the incident within the next day or so and continues walking to class with Brian when one of her friends isn’t there, because, as it turns out, she was right. 

The kid doesn’t have as many friends as everyone thinks he does. It’s always been his tendency to jump from group to group. “Cover more ground,” as he explained to her one day before class started. He’d never been good at building connections that go deeper than a casual conversation and would find a new group once one got too bland. 

El listens politely, but she can’t resist asking why he hasn’t left their friendship yet. 

“Because you aren’t boring. And, well...you know.” 

He smiles knowingly at her and she eyes him cautiously because yes, she does know and she cannot stand the way he’s looking at her. And she really cannot stand it when he places his hand over hers where it rests on the table.

“Don’t touch me,” she hisses before she can think about it, yanking her hand from his grasp. “I’m not single, you know that.” She puts as much venom into her voice as she can and his eyebrows raise, scooting away from her a little. He goes to say something, but their teacher calls to them from the front, thank God. 

“Brian, that is not your assigned seat. Quit bugging El and move back up here,” he tells him and El breathes a sigh of relief as Brian trudges back up to his desk. 

Mike’s not going to like this. 

-

“Do all guys just want a relationship?” she asks him that night as they plow through their schoolwork together. His face is curious as he glances up at her and shrugs. 

“Pretty much. Or at least a girl to mess around with,” he replies, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Why?” 

She bites her lip, glancing back down at her textbook. He sighs a moment later and she knows he figured it out. 

“What did Brian do?” 

“Not much. But he said he liked being around me and—um—“ She scrambles for the word. “He said something without saying it.” 

“Oh, implied?” 

“Yeah, implied. He implied that he’d want to be—more than friends.” 

Mike’s eyes are frantic when she looks back up at him. 

“And—and you said no, right?” 

“Mike,” she says with a chuckle before closing her textbook and crawling over to him. She presses her lips to his softly and she feels him relax as his hand weaves into her hair to pull her closer. 

“Of course I said no,” she whispers as she pulls back and plops down in front of him. “You were right, I shouldn’t have trusted him.” 

Mike shrugs, reaching out to tuck a few stray hairs behind her ear. “You did what you thought was right. I’m sorry I didn’t approve of him more, I know you just wanted to make a friend.” 

She smiles and leans into his touch as he cups her jaw, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “It’s okay. Can we just forget about him?” 

Mike grins. “Consider him forgotten.” 

They don’t mention his name for the rest of the evening and, as far as they were concerned, Brian no longer existed. 

Brian, however, had not forgotten about El. 

-

She’s not sure how the Party got roped into going to the football game. Something about Lucas’s friend finally making the team and Lucas insisting they all come to support him—she wasn’t really paying attention. Regardless, she supposes there are worse ways she could be spending a Friday night than watching a bunch of guys tackle each other as she huddles closer Mike for warmth. Lucas and Max are the only ones who know anything about the sport and she’s glad at least some of them know when to cheer. 

A little after halftime, she finds that she has to go to the bathroom and Mike offers to go with her, but she shakes her head, squeezing his shoulder as she makes her way past him to the end of the bleacher. She worms her way down through the students until she’s out in the parking lot and she’s about to make the short walk to the school when someone calls out her name behind her. 

“El, hey! Wait up!” 

She turns to see Brian jogging after her and she groans quietly. 

“Hi Brian,” she says as politely as she can. 

“Hey,” he says when he catches up with her. “So, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I did and I think I went about this in the wrong way.”

Huh. Maybe she could still give him a chance. 

She crosses her arms defiantly. “Go on,” she urges. 

“Well, I don’t think I made my intentions clear,” he continues, taking a step towards her and she glares at him. 

“My answer is no,” she tells him strongly and, much to her dismay, he chuckles. 

“Your answer was no. But I thought you’d maybe change your mind after this.” 

Before she can move, he’s darting forward to press a sloppy, wet kiss to her cheek and her stomach churns in revulsion. 

Oh hell no. 

His mouth is moving closer towards her lips and she shoves him, hard. 

“I said do not touch me!” she screams and she wouldn’t be surprised if the whole football field heard her. Her vision has gone blurry with her rage, but she manages to slam her foot into his groin and he doubles over, his face contorted in pain and she can’t find it in herself to feel bad even a bit. 

“Never, ever come near me again.” 

She leaves him writhing on the asphalt and breaks into a sprint towards the school. Bursting through the doors, she runs into the bathroom and grips the sink edge, panting. 

She doesn’t want to hate him, but that idiot had violated, not only her personal space but her explicit instruction not to lay a hand on her and she almost gags when she realizes she can still feel his mouth on her skin. Blindly, she grabs a paper towel and wets it, scrubbing at her face until her cheek feels raw. When she can no longer feel the mark of him, she lets her hand drop and the adrenaline starts slowly seeping out of her. 

She throws the paper towel away and does her business as she’d intended to do in the first place. She loses track of how long she just sits on the toilet, her face in her hands, replaying what had just happened. 

The Party’s going to murder him when they find out and Mike is going to be furious. She wishes she could feel bad for the wrath they’ll most likely unleash on the guy, but he deserves every second of it. If her own harsh words didn’t get through to him, surely the words of five other outraged people would. She just hopes none of them manage to get themselves in trouble. 

She sighs as she flushes and exits to wash her hands. She has to tell them eventually—there’s no point in lying to them. Maybe just not when they’re anywhere close to Brian. 

She’s plotting how best to go about this as she dries off her hands when the door suddenly swings open, causing her to jump when it hits the wall. 

“El Hopper,” she hears and she turns to see Shannon of all people with her hands on her hips, her face livid with anger. “I thought I told you to stay away from him. And then you lead him on? And hurt him? Are you for real, Hopper?”

What twisted stupid lies had that jerk told her? 

“I did not lead him on. He was—“

“Oh please, you think I’m going to believe you? He told me the whole story. Flirting with him I can maybe forgive, but trying to kiss him?” The girl takes a step closer to her and El takes a step back, stifling a gasp when her back hits the sink. 

“That’s a low blow, Hopper. What is your little boyfriend going to think when he hears you tried to kiss another guy?” 

“Mike’s not stupid,” she tells her, standing a little taller. “He’ll know Brian is lying.”

“Or,” Shannon continues, taking another step and El shouldn’t feel cornered by her but she does. “He’ll see you for what you really are. A little flirting whore.”

That cuts something deep in her but she’s determined not to let it show as she scoffs. Two can play at this game after all. 

“Brian doesn’t even look at you, so you intimidate the girls he does to get rid of the competition?” 

Shannon’s eyes widen, then narrow dangerously as she steps even closer to her, nearly towering over her, but El can’t stop her next words from flying out. 

“Brian doesn’t want you. You know why? Because you’re a stupid, lying bi—“

She doesn’t finish her sentence, because Shannon’s hand comes up and slaps hard her across the face. 

-

Mike was bored. 

The game hasn’t exactly held his interest, but he was at least having fun with his friends until they got bored too. Now he was cold, completely lost as to what was happening in front of him and missing the warmth of his girlfriend. 

He frowns and checks his watch. 

Fifteen minutes. She’s been gone fifteen minutes. Logically, there’s no reason to worry about her—the bathroom’s close and there’s little threat of danger here. She’ll be fine. 

...right? 

His stomach clenches and he grits his teeth as he forces his breathing to remain even. There’s no reason to panic, she can handle herself. Maybe she just got caught up talking with someone? 

Two more anxious minutes go by and he gives in, feeling like he’s about to jump out of his skin. 

“Hey, Max?” 

“What’s up?”

“Could you, um—go check on El? In the bathroom?”

Max scoffs. “What, afraid she fell in?”

“Max, come on. She’s been gone too long.”

“Mike. She can handle herself.” She turns her attention back to the field, leaning over to hear something Dustin is saying and he sighs. The anxious ball in his stomach grows worse and he stands abruptly. 

“Where are you going, Wheeler?” Max calls. 

“I’m going to check on her myself. Something’s wrong,” he responds as he starts weaving through students. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll come with you,” he hears Max say and she catches up with him as they make their way out of the bleachers. The parking lot is quiet as they cross it, eerie almost and they pick up the pace, nearly jogging to get to the school. 

“Watch, she’s gonna be perfectly fine and annoyed that she can’t even go to the bathroom without us worrying about her,” Max quips when they get to the gym and Mike shakes his head. 

“She can be annoyed all she wants, as long as she safe,” he replies as they head to the bathrooms. He’ll take the consequences, he just wants her to be okay. 

The bathroom door is closed when they arrive and Max knocks, pressing her ear to the door. 

“Hey, El? It’s Max and Mike. Are you in there?” 

There’s no response and Mike’s heart rate spikes, his mouth going dry. She has to be in there, there’s no other option. She has to be safe, dear Lord, she has to be safe. 

“Wait here,” Max mutters and opens the door. Mike goes to protest as she enters the bathroom, but it’s barely a second later that she cries out. 

“El?!”

He sucks in a breath, fear prickling the edges of his vision and he throws the door open, rushing inside to see the form of his girl huddled in the back corner. She’s curled up in a ball, her arms wrapped around her legs, her head pressed between them and her shoulders are shaking. His heart twists in on itself and he’s barely breathing as they inch closer. Although he knows she can hear them, she doesn’t acknowledge their presence and he can hear her whimpering, the sound piercing daggers through his heart. 

She’s had episodes before—intense bouts of fear, flashbacks, a few anxiety attacks. This, though. This is different. She hasn’t had a problem with shying away from comfort since they were kids and he and Hopper broke down her notion that she didn’t deserve it. Now, she hasn’t even looked at them, much less reached for him and it’s setting warning bells off in his head. 

Not wanting to spook her, they slowly kneel before her and he speaks first, every instinct in him screaming to make her better. 

“El?” 

She shudders and curls even farther into herself and every inch of his heart aches, but he takes a deep breath and pushes forward. 

“El, baby, it’s just us, you’re safe. Can—can you look at me? Please?” 

She shakes her head and he glances at Max who looks just as worried as he feels. 

“El, can you tell us what happened?” Max asks softly and again, she frantically shakes her head. 

Mike gnaws on his lip as he studies her, her actions perplexing him and, on reflex, he stretches a hand out to place it on her arm. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t shy away and he takes that as a victory. He doesn’t dare go any farther until she tells him it’s okay, but he slowly rubs circles against her skin as they wait. For what, he’s not sure, but he knows she needs them to be patient and for her, he has all the time in the world. 

Max slowly extends a hand too, resting it on El’s arm as well and, much to his surprise, she flinches, leaning away from her touch and Max pulls back as if she’d been burned. 

El lets out a muffled sob, her head still tucked in her knees. “I’m sorry Max,” she whispers and he has to strain to hear her. He shoots Max a confused look and lifts his hand off her arm as well, but El whimpers out his name and he quickly puts it back. 

“El?” Max’s voice is quiet. “Would you like me to leave?” 

She doesn’t say anything, but her silence is enough. Beside him, Max swallows and rises to her feet. He meets her gaze to see she’s hurt and he shrugs helplessly, at a loss for words. He knows El hasn’t told her everything about the trauma in her past, but he’s not sure Max knows that and now is not the time to find out. 

“I’ll, um—I’ll go tell the guys, okay?” Max says and hurries out. Mike turns his attention back to the girl in front of him, a weight lifting now that it’s just the two of them and he adjusts his position, sitting criss-cross in front of her. 

“El?” he starts timidly, wanting so badly for her to let him in. “You don’t have to talk to me, but—but you’re starting to scare me a little. Can you please look at me, baby? Just for a second?” 

Ever so slowly, she peeks up at him and her eyes are overflowing with pain, so much so that tears begin to clog his throat and he swallows roughly, holding her gaze. 

That is until he notices her cheek and he sucks in a breath. 

Her face is blotchy from crying, but her right cheek is a deep, angry red, the smallest bit swollen, but it’s obvious that this was another person’s doing and a voice in his head screams. 

Someone hit her. 

Someone hit his beautiful, precious El. 

Don’t they know she’s been hit enough?

His fingers start shaking and he fights for control over his breaths because he has to stay calm for her, but damnit, he feels like punching whoever attacked her. 

He quickly glances away from her, unaware of the grip he now has on her arm and waits for his vision to stop swimming. Once he has some resemblance of control, he speaks, his voice low and calculated. 

“El. Who did this to you?” 

She sobs, pulling further still into herself and she furiously shakes her head. 

“No,” she says and he grits his teeth because she’s not going to let him get justice and he knows it, but the anger in him is white-hot, flaming, licking at the edges of his heart.

“Tell me who hurt you.”

“No.”

“Eleven.”

“No.”

Control, control, he has to stay under control. 

“Why won’t you tell me?” 

She presses her lips together and shakes her head, her face crumpled and her eyes down on the floor. 

Control. 

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Stop telling me no!” 

He yells it, his voice ringing off the tiled floors and she jolts, shock freezing her body before a sob wracks through her, then another and another, until she’s curled up in the same ball he found her in. Not a single inch of her isn’t trembling and it’s sobering enough that all the fight leaves him with a whoosh. The intensity of it pricks his eyes with tears and he’s ashamed. 

“El.” It’s a cracked whisper and he scoots closer to her, bending to rest his forehead on her crossed arms, the crown of his head resting gently against hers. 

“I didn’t mean to yell. I’m sorry.” His voice cracks again and he lets the tears run onto his cheeks. “I hate seeing you hurt. I hate it, I—it hurts me in the worst way possible. I want to help you and I’m sorry I got angry, you don’t have to forgive me.” 

She’s whimpering, but she’s quieted down and he swallows, crying for the pain in her that he’s so ready to shoulder himself, the fear that he won’t be strong enough and the guilt for directing his fury at her. 

“I won’t force you to talk,” he continues after a moment and she lets out a shuddering breath, relaxing slightly. “But I am right here to help you and I’m not going to leave you, because I love you. Let me help you. Please.” 

He feels her lift her head and a dash of hope flickers through him. He raises his head to meet her eyes and she bites her lip, her face a mess of pain and trust. 

“El,” he pleads, his hands resting gently around her ankles, needing to have some connection with her. After a beat, she nods slowly and his shoulders sag in relief at how open her eyes have become. He goes to say something, but the door suddenly opens and they both jump, heads whipping towards the entrance. 

Max steps in cautiously and he can see the guys peeking in from around her. 

“Um—I’ve got everyone and Mrs. Byers. We’re ready to go if you are,” she tells them and Mike turns his attention back to El. 

“Do you want to go home?” he asks softly and she nods, her hands unfurling from her knees to reach toward him. He stands to help pull her up and once she’s steady on her feet, she holds tight to his hand as they follow Max out of the bathroom. He squeezes her hand twice, letting her know that he’s got her and she squeezes back, resting her head against his shoulder. 

They make it to the car in relative silence—Max must’ve warned the rest of them not to pester El with questions, but he can see their concerned glances and can’t do much but smiles weakly at them. 

El climbs first into the backseat and he follows her, scooting over to make room for Max and Lucas since Dustin and Will are cramming upfront. It’s a tight fit and El ends up mostly on his lap, not that either of them mind. They forgo a seat belt and she curls up to him, burying her face in his neck, her hands grasping his shirt and her knees resting on his lap. He didn’t know his heart could swell and break at the same time and he wraps an arm around her shoulders to keep her secure against him. As the car starts to move, he presses a hand to her head, only to pull it back in alarm when she tenses. 

“El?” he whispers into her hair and she’s still for a moment before she leans up to whisper, “It still feels like—“. She tapers off and he presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. 

She still feels the sting of another’s hand on her. 

He's going to make someone pay for this.

His thoughts are numb and quiet as Dustin, Lucas and Max are dropped off. It went unspoken that he would be spending the night and as they approach the Byers’ house, he nudges the girl in his arms to find her asleep. When they reach the driveway, he whispers her name, slowly coaxing her awake and she murmurs something incoherent before extracting herself from him to let him out of the car. She follows closely behind and he figures out a few logistics with Mrs. Byers—when to take him home in the morning, where to find a sleeping bag and with a warning not to hurt El further, she hugs her step-daughter and bids them both goodnight. 

El tugs him to her room quietly and he figures she just wants to go to bed, but as soon as they’re safely behind her door, she wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest. His arms come up to hold her and they stand there for a while until she speaks. 

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m ready to talk now.” 

He lets out a breath, before nodding against her hair. She slowly lets go of him and walks back a few steps to plop down on her bed. He follows her, hesitantly sitting down next to her and watches her closely as she fidgets nervously with the blanket, her eyes sad and faraway. 

“I don’t know where to start,” she finally says, not looking up at him. 

“That’s okay,” he replies gently, but her shoulders slump and he rushes to find a better answer. “Um—but maybe I could help you. Can I ask you some questions?”

She glances up at that, looking complacent as she nods and he scoots a little bit closer to her. 

“Okay. Can you tell me who hit you?” 

She winces and looks away, her arms coming up to wrap around her torso and he’s moving before he knows it, his hands landing on her elbows. 

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can keep sitting here without—without knowing who hurt you. I know you think I’m going to get mad and do something dumb if you tell me, but I won’t, I won’t. I’m done being mad for today.” She gives him a look that shows she knows that’s a lie, so he amends his statement. “Mostly. I can't say I won't be furious at whoever hit you, but I won't yell again. I'm, um--really sorry I did that." 

She smiles sadly and reaches for his hand, squeezing it in a gesture of forgiveness. After a beat, she speaks.

“Shannon.”

“What?” 

“Shannon.”

He frowns. “Shannon Warner?” 

El nods.

“Why did she hit you?”

She blows out a breath and he reaches for her other hand.

“I won’t get mad,” he tags on. 

“Yes, you will.” 

“Not at you.” Never at her. 

A soft smile flashes across her face before it falls and she sits up a little straighter. 

“Remember Brian?” 

Yuck. “Yes.” 

“He, um—he wasn’t done with me.” 

She proceeds to make her way through the story, barely looking at him. He restrains himself from shouting when she quietly admits that he tried to kiss her—that he did kiss her and resorts to pacing around the room as she quickly reassures him that she took care of the guy. He rakes a hand through his hair as she explains how she’d hidden in the bathroom and he wishes more than anything someone had gone with her. 

She explains how Shannon fits into all this once she gets to the part where the girl had burst into the bathroom and Mike rolls his eyes at how petty Shannon's rationale was. They’re in high school, would she just grow up? 

“And then she threatened to tell you I tried to kiss Brian,” El’s saying. 

“You know I wouldn’t have believed her, right?” he interjects and she nods. 

“That’s what I told her. But, um—then she called me a whore and—“

“She what??” 

His outburst startles her and his stomach twists when she looks away from him, her eyes misty. 

“El, El I’m sorry. Keep going, I won’t say anything.” He sits on the edge of the bed, far enough away so he’s not suffocating her and close enough that she can reach for him if she wants. She sniffs and nods, avoiding looking at him. 

“Then I almost called her another name and—and I didn’t, because then she slapped me.” 

Hearing her admit it is so much worse. He bows his head, breathing through the surge of fury that whips through him. What’s done is done and he’ll make sure there’s hell to pay. 

He hears El’s breath hitch and he knows she’s crying again. The silence is heavy and thick around them as her confession sinks in. When he blinks, a tear rolls down his cheek and he swipes it away hastily. This isn’t about him. 

Letting out a shuddering breath, he kicks off his shoes and moves so he’s behind her, slowly as to not startle her. He wraps his arms around her waist, needing to hold her close, and rests his chin on her shoulder, his heart clenching at the way she’s trembling as she leans into him. They sit like that for a while, El’s hands mindlessly tracing over his arms as she collects herself. 

“Do you, um—do you have any more questions?” she asks after a while, her voice rough and timid. 

He nuzzles his face into her neck before letting his curiosity get the better of him. 

“Why didn’t you fight back?” 

She stiffens and the apologies beg to leap out of him, but he holds his ground because he needs to know. She took Brian down just fine. She was a fighter as much as she was a lover, but she evidently hadn’t tried to fight Shannon and he wanted to know why. 

“They didn’t let me fight back in the lab.” 

“El—“ 

“Mike. They didn’t. When they hit me, it—“ Her voice breaks off as she sobs and he holds her as tight as he can, trying to keep all her broken pieces together. 

“It meant I had lost. I couldn’t—couldn’t do anything else, they would only hurt me worse. P-Papa always got called if they hurt me a s-second time and before he told them to take me to the—the dark place—“ She shudders violently and he can barely stand it anymore. 

“El, you don’t have to keep going,” he says, raising his head to find her face twisted with pain. 

“Before they took me, he’d grab me, h-hard, and tell me how bad I’d been. And I always believed him. I was good if I did only what he told me and bad if—if I tried anything else. Then he’d—“

She whimpers, clutching his arms more tightly and he presses his lips to her temple, once, twice, lending her every bit of strength he has. 

“He’d tell me he’d hit me h-himself if I did it again and he’d hit me twice if I told anyone what they did to me. When they threw me in the dark place, all I’d think about is how I could make Papa happy again. I made him happy by not saying anything.”

She pauses, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. 

“They didn’t let me fight back, Mike. So I didn't fight Shannon. I had lost."

He doesn’t know what to say to that as she slumps against him, tucking her head under his chin. 

He knew she was abused, sure, but hearing the stories made him want to yank all the memories out and take them on himself so she never has to be haunted by them again. And yet, he can’t do a thing. Not to the bad men, not to Papa and, realistically, not to Shannon or Brian either. He wants to hunt them down and make them pay, but they already did their damage and he wouldn’t be helping anything by adding more. 

That doesn’t mean she can’t still bring them to justice. 

“El?”

“Mmhm?”

“Please tell me you’ll tell a teacher about this on Monday. Or at least someone in the office.”

She’s quiet and he has his answer. 

“El, you have to tell someone. What they did to you—both of them, it’s not okay. You won’t get in trouble for it and if they don’t listen to you, we’ll make them listen.” 

“We?”

“Yeah. Me, Max, Dustin, all of us. You didn’t think we’d let you barge in there all alone did you?” 

He can feel her smile into his chest before it falls and she sighs. 

“What if they don’t believe us?” 

There’s something heavy under her question and he doesn’t want to push her, but curiosity gnaws at him. 

“You tried telling someone in the lab, didn’t you.” 

She looks up at him, her eyes tired and sad. 

“Yes. They didn’t believe me.” 

“Did Papa find out?” 

She bites her lip to hold back her sob, but it forces its way out of her and she crumples back into him. 

“H-He was really angry when they told him and—and it was the only time I put m-myself in the dark place. It was s-safer than facing him.”

An image of a scared little girl crying as she shut herself in darkness flashes through his mind and he doesn’t bother blinking away his tears as they come hard and fast. She becomes heavier and heavier against him, her sorrow weighing her down. He moves quickly, scooting back across the bed and bringing her with him until he’s resting against the headboard and wraps his arms tightly around her as she sobs quietly. He presses his lips to her hair, letting them linger as he cries with her and lets his argument go, his frustration following its trail. Now wasn’t the time to fight back. 

“I’m sorry I pushed you.”

“No, Mike, you didn’t—“

“But I did and I’m sorry. We’ll—we’ll deal with this later, alright?”

El nods after a beat, snuggling farther into his chest. 

“Can we just go to bed?” she whispers. 

He wants to say no, to stay up until they’ve come to a resolution and he feels like he’s done enough, but they’ve run out of options and it’s nearing midnight. This isn't over, far from it, but there's little else to be done. 

“Promise me you’re okay, baby,” he pleads. She hesitates and his heart stutters because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if she isn’t. 

“I will be,” she murmurs. 

“What can I do to help?”

“Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave me.” 

He can do that. 

“And—and don’t hurt me.”

“Are you kidding?? I would never, ever—“

She sits up suddenly, but the smallest smile is gracing her lips, indicating she’s not startled. 

“I know. That’s what you can do to help and you’re already doing it.” 

He huffs out a breath, his indignation fading away and for the first time all night, she giggles softly. 

“I just want to sleep,” she tells him as her mirth dies down and he nods, whispering a soft, “okay.” 

They get ready for bed swiftly, not saying much, but always staying close, not wanting to let each other out of their sights. When they crawl under her covers after turning off the lights, he’s sleepy and from the way El’s eyes droop, she is too. She drapes an arm over his waist as he settles on his back, wrapping his arms around her. He has the thought that he should make sure she’s in a better headspace before they fall asleep, but that’s the last conscious thought he remembers, because he drifts off to sleep, holding his precious girl close. 

In the coming days, after a long talk with the Party to break El out of the mentalities the lab had placed upon her, she’ll be pleasantly surprised when she barely gets reprimanded by the school for her harsh words against Shannon. Both Shannon and Brian will be suspended, their stories crumbling under the six opposing ones and the incident will melt into the past as El carries on with her head held high. 

For tonight, she rests with the one person she knows will never intentionally hurt her. She’ll brave through a hundred injustices if it means she gets to have him at the end of the day and she blissfully falls asleep knowing that no matter what, he will always keep her safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm back :) I feel like I owe you all an apology for how late I was in getting this out. College is sucking almost all my time right now, but no matter how long I take, I want you guys to know that I'm always working on a one-shot and I'll get them out as soon as I can. Thank you all for your continued to support, I can't thank you all enough!


	8. Midnight (Post-S3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literally just Mike and El cuddling in the dark before Mike soothes away a nightmare of El's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something short and super fluffy to tide you over until the next one!

It has been a total of one minute since she turned off the light and El has already decided she can’t sleep. 

Her boyfriend is one room over and she misses him terribly, despite having spent the whole day together. He usually didn’t get to their house until dinner time on Fridays, so it was a surprise when he showed up at their door early that morning and she almost knocked him over with the force of her hug. He'd conveniently forgotten to tell her that he had the day off from school and she was sure she was going to combust from happiness.

She isn’t even sure what they did today. She knows they went out to lunch, but the rest of it is a blur of talking and kissing and soaking in every moment they could of being together. 

It was magical. 

And apparently, she can’t get enough of him, because all her thoughts keep darting back to him as soon as she closes her eyes. She huffs and rolls over onto her side, staring into the darkness as she contemplates sneaking into his room for the night. No one would mind, so long as Joyce didn’t find out and even then, she wasn’t too mad when they’d done it before. 

After a few minutes, she’s so restless that she sits up and starts to move out of her bed, but the clicking of her doorknob stops her and her heart leaps in her throat. She freezes as the door creaks open and the faint blue hue from the hallway nightlight outlines the figure poking his head in. 

“El? Are you asleep?” 

She feels her face light up with a grin at the sound of Mike’s voice. 

“No,” she whispers. “Come here?” Her request tilts up into a question and he chuckles, stepping into her room and shutting the door. 

The space goes pitch black without the hallway light and she scoots to the far corner of her bed, being careful not to fall off and extends her hands to where she’s sure he is. Her fingers brush his arms and he reaches up to clasp her hands. She tugs, moving backward on her knees and she feels the bed dip as he follows her. He lets go of her, his hands and knees pressing into the mattress as he crawls towards the pillows and she scoots back to meet him there. 

There’s a soft thunk and a quiet “Ow” and she giggles, assuming his head had hit the headboard. She props herself up on her elbow and reaches out blindly until she brushes against his hair. 

“Are you okay?” she asks, unable to keep the mirth out of her voice as she cards her fingers through his hair. She hears his content exhale at her actions and she giggles again, taking that as a yes. They sit in blissful silence for a few moments, before she yawns, feeling her eyes growing heavy. 

“You ready to sleep?” he whispers and she nods before realizing he can’t see her. 

“Yes please,” she replies and lowers herself down, the bed jostling as he does the same. They don’t say much as they get settled and somewhere along the lines, their hands tangle together and she drifts off to his thumb tracing patterns on her skin. 

-

She gasps awake as the sound of a gunshot fades from her consciousness. Her eyes meet nothing but darkness and she feels terror creeping up her throat. 

It was Mike, she remembers suddenly, horribly. He got shot. 

“Mike,” she pleads to no one, hysteria rising quickly. 

She can hear her voice shaking as her hands fumble for him and her fingertips brush across his shoulder. She grabs onto it and her movements rouse him from his sleep. He mumbles for a moment, the darkness threatening to swallow the sound back up before his breaths become more intentional and she feels the shape of him tense. 

“El?” he murmurs and she releases a gasping breath, because it’s still him, he’s still there. 

His shoulder pushes against her hand, making it slip down to his chest and she realizes he’s rising, but to do what she isn’t sure. 

Her heart claws at her throat and she grabs a fistful of his shirt, anything to anchor her to him blindly. 

“Stay,” she gasps and the movement stops. 

“I was just gonna turn on the light, El.” 

“I—“

For some reason, she doesn’t want to let him go, fearful that if she doesn’t keep a hand on him, he’ll be lost forever. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asks her softly as the bed dips with his weight again. 

She chooses not to reply and instead, traces her hand up his chest, then his neck, and finally, resting her palm against his cheek. 

Mike’s smart. He knows what that means. 

“I’m here, El, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” 

A hand gently touches her arm and she jumps, before scooting closer to him, her legs pressing up against his strong ones. His hand skims up her forearm and tentatively makes its way to her back, his palm splayed lightly against it. She shivers and rests her forehead against his chest, hands curled around the fabric of his shirt. 

“Mike?”

“Mmhm?”

“Tell me something good.” 

She’s lost track of how many times she’s made that request in the past four months. During a thunderstorm or after a rough day, she asked him the same thing, needing his voice to mend the cracks that formed in her soul. 

She hears him clear his throat and she burrows deeper into him. 

“You’re really beautiful.” 

She melts, her insides growing all warm as she feels her cheeks heat up. He hasn’t said that to her in a while and his voice is low and sincere and she’s going to dissolve into a puddle of love. 

“I’m—I’m sorry I don’t say it as often as I should,” he continues. “I guess I’m just—afraid of overstepping my boundaries.” 

“You used to say it all the time,” she replies quietly, trying to keep the sad notes out of her voice because she’s not upset with him. They’ve been through a lot, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss it. 

“I know, I know,” he says dejectedly. “You deserve to hear it every day, El. But I—I don’t know, I overthink things too much. I’m afraid of hurting you, you know? You’ve already been hurt enough.”

“Why would that hurt me?” she asks quietly, furrowing her brow. 

She feels Mike shrug and he takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, the air tickling the top of her head and she bites her lip to keep from giggling. 

“I just don’t want to overstep anything,” he repeats. “I never stopped thinking that, by the way, how beautiful you are. You’ve just been so overwhelmed with everything the past couple of months and I didn’t want to be overbearing, I guess. It’s stupid, I’m sorry. I’ll be better.” 

His explanation is sincere and while she’s still not sure why he thought his love was a hindrance, she knows the thought wasn’t born out of spite for her. She does wish that he told her more, not so much to boost her confidence but to reverse the lingering damage the lab had placed on her. One day, she just knows it, she’ll see herself as strong and beautiful and she knows Mike will have played a huge hand in getting her from science experiment to a fierce, stunning young woman. 

For now though, she pulls back just a little and lazily traces a line up his jaw and across his cheek to boop his nose, lightening the mood because it’s two in the morning and she loves this idiot. 

“You can’t even see me, how do you know I’m still beautiful?” she says teasingly and he chuckles nervously and she just knows he’s blushing. 

“I know your voice. And your voice is beautiful, so—“ he responds lightly and she’s grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. She goes to place a kiss on the tip of his nose and it lands somewhere on his cheekbone, his skin heating up even more at her touch. 

She snuggles back into his chest and he pulls her closer, sighing contently. The world goes warm and fuzzy as they begin to drift off again and a thought occurs to her before she falls asleep. 

“I think you’re beautiful too, Mike,” she whispers. 

He huffs out a laugh. 

“Guys aren’t supposed to be beautiful, El.” 

She hums. 

“Neither was I.”


	9. Secret (Post-S3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: tank03 on ff.net requested a rewrite of the Mileven breakup arc and while it was a lot harder to write than I thought it was going to be, I enjoy this more than what the screenwriters came up with. Thanks also to Hollow Lives, who helped fuel my thoughts for this piece.
> 
> I hope you all are safe and well. Hopefully, a little Mileven fluff can make quarantine a bit more bearable!

"Here's what's going to happen."

Hopper doesn't need to look at the kid to know he's listening.

"I'm going to drive you home. And I'm going to speak. And then maybe—"

He leans forward, channeling every intimidating gesture he can think of.

"Maybe by the end of it, maybe if you're lucky, I will continue to allow you to date my daughter."

Ha, fat chance of that happening. He's going to break them up. No matter what it takes, there will be no more cheeky comments, no more hour-long make-out sessions. They were done. Over. So he can finally regain his sanity.

He looks over at the boy, his hands clenching around the steering wheel. Mike's eyes are wide and, dare he say it, terrified.

Bingo. He's got the kid on the hook.

"Nod if you understand!"

He nods and Hopper turns the ignition, his speech already running through his head as he presses on the gas.

He remains silent as he navigates through the woods, letting the boy's nerves build as he relishes in finally having the upper hand. When he's out on the main road, he squares his shoulders and speaks with all of the authority he possesses.

"You are not allowed to see El tomorrow."

"What? That's—"

"Hey, hey, hey, what did I just say? You are not allowed to speak, Michael."

Mike huffs and crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat to glare out the window. Hopper rolls his eyes at his attitude but pushes on anyway.

"You are spending way too much time together and it's unhealthy for both of you. So if I find you at my house tomorrow, your little relationship is over, I will make sure of it. Do you understand?"

"No."

Hopper slams on the brakes, jolting the car forward and Mike cries out indignantly.

"What did you just say?" he asks, ignoring the kid's protest as he pulls the vehicle onto the side of the road so he can stare him down.

"You heard me. I said no. You can't keep me from seeing El. What, three hundred and fifty-three days wasn't enough for you? Three hundred and fifty-three days of misery for both of us didn't bring you enough joy? You have to add one more to be satisfied?"

Hopper sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No kid, I'm not trying to punish you, all right? This is for El's safety—hers and yours. You're too attached, okay? It's not healthy."

"It's not healthy for us to be apart either! Do you know how much I worry when I'm not with her? Do you know how happy she makes me? Why would you want to take that away from us? What is wrong with you?!"

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?" he snaps back, barely bothering to contain his frustration. "You've been in my house every day for the past six months to see her. Grow up, Mike, you can handle one day."

"Even if I could, you have no right to mess with our relationship. She is her own person with her own thoughts and feelings and so am I. We can decide when we want to see each other on our own, we don't need you to figure that out for us. Now, are you going to take me home, or should I start walking?"

"Kid, I'm just asking for one day of space between you two. If you keep this up, she's going to be entirely too dependent on you and not able to function if you're around."

"Too late."

Damn it, the kid was right. It was almost too late. If he had a dollar for every time El mentioned Mike's name in a day, he'd be able to retire. She wasn't unhappy when he wasn't around, but it was obvious she was always thinking about him. Hopper doesn't know much about relationships, but he does know that if they ever had to separate for any reason, it would destroy her.

Better start now then.

"You think I don't know that? I'm trying to help you be independent, okay?"

"We don't need your help."

Mike's voice is stern and definite and it occurs to Hopper that he's losing to a fourteen-year-old. He slams his hand on the steering wheel and the kid jumps.

"Why do you continue to disrespect me, Michael? I'm ordering you to stop seeing her for your own good. Why can't you just do as you're told?"

"Because I lo—"

Hopper's eyebrows raise as far as they can go.

The boy almost said it. He almost said the L-word.

Deep down, he knows that's why, but he'd never admit it. They were too young. Too young to have guns aimed at them, too young to fight monsters.

Entirely too young to be in love.

Mike's gone silent, his mouth still open to shape around the word he almost spit out. His face flashes through so many emotions, he thinks the kid's going to cry. Eventually, he bites his lip sheepishly and looks down, his shoulders slumped.

Fascinating.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asks, feigning obliviousness.

Mike doesn't respond, sniffing once, but otherwise staying quiet and still. So, he tries again.

"What were you going to say, Mike?" he says, emphasizing each word. There's a pause before he shakes his head, his eyes still not meeting his. Hopper fights back a smirk and leans back against the car door.

"Could you tell El what you were about to say?"

Mike's eyes fill with fear and Hopper has his answer.

"Alright. Then here's the deal, kid. You are not allowed to see her ever again until you can admit that to her face."

With that, he throws the truck into drive and peels out onto the road.

-

Mike loses track of how long he lays on his bed just staring at the ceiling that night, his thoughts stormy and swirly.

He can't believe he had almost blurted out his deepest secret in front of his girlfriend's father. That was meant to stay locked away until they were older and he could process the consuming, fiery emotion he felt when he was around El. He'd only put a name to it in the past couple months-it still steals his breath when she smiles and his heart whispers how much he loves her.

He had even felt it today when they were hastily rearranging themselves to make it look like they hadn't been kissing. They were settled behind their comic books and El had blown him a kiss before she let Hopper into the room. His heart had raced wildly as he caught it with a grin and he thought he was going to melt from how happy she makes him.

No way was he ready to tell her he was in love with her yet. What if he scared her away? What if he had to explain it and she didn't understand? What if she thought he was weird and obsessive?

What if she didn't feel the same?

He's been trying to convince himself that he'd be fine if she didn't. There are plenty of other boys out there and maybe she's just pitying him for a little bit before she's able to explore her options. Maybe she only likes him a little and will be intimidated by how deeply he feels by her. Maybe she hates him and is only staying with him because she feels obligated to.

His thoughts have traced this path many times before, but it still waters the seed of doubt in his mind every time he goes down it. Somewhere along that path, he knows she at least must feel something for him. She's saved his life on multiple occasions, listened to almost all of his nightly calls last year, initiated kissing him several times and the way she looks at him turns his insides into a puddle of gooey happiness.

But is it love?

He's too scared to find out.

Things would change, he just knows it. If she doesn't reciprocate, then they could try all they wanted to move on, but there would be a barrier between them and he'd always be reminded of what he couldn't have.

If she does, however. He starts to smile just thinking about it. If she does, they'll be invincible.

Telling her now seems ludicrous, but maybe Hopper was right. He's not right about most things, but if he couldn't work up the courage to tell her how he feels, why should he be around her and hide it from her?

Tomorrow, he decides. He'll tell her tomorrow.

-

'I'm not going to tell her today,' is the first thought he has when he wakes up. Whatever he was thinking last night was stupid.

She would laugh in his face if he told her now. They're not even in high school yet, he's got plenty of time to tell her. Why should he let a grumpy, overprotective man dictate his relationship with El? He'll tell her when they're ready and that's final.

...

But what if he shows up at the cabin today and Hopper tells El himself?

The Chief of Police has blackmail over him.

Crap.

-

He calls El right at 9:00. It rings twice before she picks up, sounding out of breath.

"Mike?"

Despite the pit in his stomach, he smiles.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Because you're late. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm, um—I'm fine."

"Then why are you still at home?"

He covers the receiver and blows out a breath, praying that this doesn't go as badly as he thinks it well.

"I should've called earlier, but I'm not coming to see you today."

There's a heavy silence and he squeezes his eyes shut, willing her to at least respond.

"What?"

Her voice is timid and devastated and his stomach plummets.

"It's not because I don't, um—care about you anymore, I swear it's not that. It's just—Hopper told me last night that I'm not allowed to see you until I tell you—something. And I wasn't going to listen to him, because I always want to spend time with you, but—I don't know, I just don't want him to tell you if I come over."

"Then tell me."

"What?"

"Tell me what Hop wants you to tell me."

He pinches the bridge of his nose and grits his teeth.

"That's the thing, El. I...I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"It's, um—it's a private thing."

"A secret?"

Secrets were a big deal to her. Secrets were bad. They meant something was being plotted against her and she hated them. He rarely had any to keep from her and he feels safe enough with her to tell her almost anything. Except this. She'd respect that, right?

"It won't stay that way for long, alright? I just...I need time to think."

Again, there's silence and he doesn't know how much more of this he can take. Then...

"Hop?"

Her voice is muffled like she had covered the receiver and he sucks in a breath.

"Yeah kid?" he hears Hopper respond.

"What does Mike want to tell me?"

"El!" he cries, trying to get her attention because if Hopper tells El, he might just murder the man.

"I'll let him tell you himself," Hopper replies and Mike blows out a sigh of relief. "Although," he continues and raises his voice in a way that Mike knows it's directed to him. "He better not lay eyes on you until he tells you."

Mike cringes and there's a beat, before El's voice returns.

"Mike, this is stupid. I want to see you. Please, just tell me."

He almost does. The words sit heavy on his tongue, ready to spill out into the world, but every what-if holds him back and his head hangs in resignation.

"Not yet, El. Someday, hopefully. But not now. I don't think I'm ready and I'm, uh—scared of how you'll react."

"You're...you're afraid of me?"

"No, no, no, not of you, I'm just afraid of what you might say or do."

"Oh. Why?"

"Because it's big, El. Really big. I don't know how you'll think of me afterward, so I'm...scared."

"Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you not trust me?"

This was not going well.

"Yeah, of course I do. Just—I'll figure out a way for us to hang out tomorrow, alright? Don't tell Hopper."

"...okay."

"Miss you already, El, see you tomorrow."

With that, he hastily hangs up the phone and blows out a breath.

That...could've been worse at least.

With little hesitation, he calls the Sinclair house, then the Byers' and ten minutes later, Lucas has flopped on his couch while Will sits at the D&D table as Mike relays his story with much frustration.

"Dude, Hopper can't actually stop you from seeing her," Lucas says once he's finished and Mike rakes a hand through his hair.

"Physically, no, he can't. But you don't understand—if I show up there without having told El, he'd probably tell her himself and that's the last thing I want."

"So...you're not going to see her until you tell her, which you aren't planning on doing?"

"I don't know, Lucas! I just...I don't know."

"What is it that you have to tell her, anyway? Why can't she just know?"

"Trust me, I wish it was that simple."

There's a beat and then something in Lucas's face shifts and he sits up straighter.

"Dude. You don't...L-word her, do you?"

Heat rises to his cheeks and he does nothing to stop it. He's so obvious about it around them, no matter how hard he tries not to be, that he wouldn't be surprised if they already knew. So, he chooses not to respond, looking anywhere but their faces.

"Oh snap dude, you do!" Lucas exclaims and Mike does his best to glare at him but knows it falls short when his friend

laughs instead. "Mikey's in loooooooove!"

"Please shut up, Lucas. And if either of you tell her, I will murder you," he says, dread already forming in his stomach that both of them knew now.

"How do you know that's what you feel?" Will asks, looking more confused than anything.

It was a valid question to which Mike had many answers. Not only is she his favorite person, but she's incredibly sweet and brave and pretty and smart and—

"Mike."

"What?"

"Did you hear me?"

"I just know, okay? I've never felt like this before about anyone."

"So why don't you tell her?" Lucas asks.

"Because I don't want her to laugh in my face," Mike mumbles.

"Dude, are you serious? Do you see the way she looks at you?"

Mike stares at him for a beat before he shakes his head.

"It's almost worse than how you look at her. She definitely cares about you. A lot."

"Yeah, but does she—" He's still cautious about saying it, so he cuts himself off and gestures with his hands instead.

"I don't know, dude. You'll have to ask her yourself."

Mike sighs and purses his lips. Lucas was right. The only way he'd find out is if he asked. And that scared the hell out of him.

"Alright, it's official," Lucas says, standing up from the couch. "You're thinking way too much. You need a distraction."

"No I'm not!" Mike protests.

"Yes you are. You look all gloomy and crap."

"Where are we going?" Will asks as Lucas heads for the stairs.

"The mall," he replies without looking back. "You coming?"

-

Mike still doesn't understand what they're doing here.

Sure, he'd love to find something to win back El's heart, a sort of apology gift, but nothing looks like her. She's not that into makeup, none of the clothes fit her style, all the books sounded boring and too adult. Nothing was working. The only thing close was the teddy bear charm they found in the jewelry shop and he smiled for the first time that day, knowing she'd probably love it. Being in that store, however, got him thinking about how she's the only girl he wants to marry and, considering that he can't even spit out his true feelings, he doesn't know how on earth he'd ask her to marry him.

Lucas and Will rolled their eyes and dragged him out of there before he had an existential crisis.

Needless to say, his spirits were very low by the time they left an hour later.

"What if she just never speaks to me again?" he asks as they pull their bikes off the rack.

"Mike. If you mention her one more time, I'm going to run you over with my bike," Lucas says, "Relax, dude. Maybe she'll come around tomorrow."

"Isn't this a nice surprise?"

His stomach drops. His eyes land on Max first and when they flit over to the girl standing next to her, his heart stutters and he feels his bike slip out of his grasp.

His first thought is that she looks good. Really good. His second is that, if a bad man recognizes her, they were screwed.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, doing a quick check around them to make sure she wasn't being watched.

"Shopping," El says, her voice matching the glare in her eyes.

"It's her new style," Max adds. "What do you think?"

He ignores her question, incredulous that she had been so careless.

"What's wrong with you? You know she's not allowed to be here."

"What is she, your little pet?"

"Yeah, am I your pet?" El says. He's never heard her that sassy.

What had Max done to his girlfriend?

"What? No!"

"Then why do you treat me like garbage?"

On second thought, what had he done to his girlfriend?

"What?"

"You keep secrets from me."

His chuckle is humorless.

"That's what this is about? El, I'm really sorry, but I'm just not ready yet."

"Boyfriends don't keep secrets," she retorts, her tone still flat and accusing.

"Says who?" he replies.

"Max."

He glares at the redhead. When all this is over, he's going to have a serious talk with her.

"Keeping secrets is the same thing as lying, Mike," Max quips, looking smug and defiant.

He rolls his eyes.

"Okay, first of all, you're wrong. Second of all, I'll tell you eventually, El. I told you that."

"But I can't see you until you tell me," El says, for the first time looking deflated and more like herself.

She was right. It was almost impossible to see her without seeing Hopper.

"El—"

"Mike."

Her gaze is imploring and honest. Whatever ideas Max had put in her head were gone. They were at a stalemate and it was either tell her or lose her.

"Okay. Okay, El. I'll tell you."

She lights up, beaming at him so prettily and he suddenly forgets why he was ever hesitant to tell her. Not in front of their friends, though.

"Just—not here."

"Why not here?"

"It's a private thing, remember?"

"Yeah, and besides," Lucas pipes up from behind him. "We already know what he wants to tell you."

Mike could've smacked him.

El's eyes grow wide, losing the joy that had been there moments ago to what looks like fear, and Lucas scrambles to recover.

"Not that we know because Mike's talking about you behind your back. I mean, he is, but not in the way you think."

"Lucas," Mike hisses.

"You've been talking about me?" El says quietly and he looks to see that her eyes are beginning to brim with tears. Damnit, he had been so close. He was ready to tell her how he truly feels and now this?

"No, no, no, El, not bad things—" he rushes to explain, but it's like she doesn't even hear him.

"Do you know?" Her question is directed at Will, who gives a small nod, at least having the decency to look ashamed.

She bites her lip as the first tear spills over and he can feel his heart withering away. She looks behind her at Max, not even bothering to repeat her question.

"I don't know for certain, but I have a pretty good idea of what Mike needs to say to you. I bet he's just too scared to say it," Max replies, looking at him smugly and he suddenly forgets why he ever liked her.

"Scared of me," El whispers as she turns back to him, looking lost and alone.

"El, let me explain. Please." He can fix this. He has to fix this.

"No."

She takes a step forward, swallowing a sob.

"You keep secrets from me because you're scared of me."

In the distance, a bus hisses.

She's about to leave. Oh no. Oh no no no no, it can't end like this.

"El, please—"

"I dump your ass, Mike. Go find someone better for you."

With that, she turns with a sob and runs for the bus.

He wonders if she could hear the sound of his heart shattering on the sidewalk.

-

He doesn't see her for a week.

He doesn't see hardly anyone for a week. If El was done with him, then he saw little reason to try and win her back. She obviously didn't feel for him the way he felt for her, so what was the point? She wasn't willing to hear him out. End of story.

If only it were that easy to dismiss it.

He sits closer to depression than he has since she was gone, his mind short-circuiting at the thought of a life without El in it. His world goes gray—empty and meaningless without the dancing colors she brings. He spends all his time in the basement, writing a little, drawing a little, watching a few movies, but he has a noticeable lack of motivation to do anything.

A small piece of him hasn't given up hope for rekindling his relationship with her. After all they'd been through, it doesn't make logical sense for them to split over a mistake on his part that they could fix if they tried. He'd stared down death for her and she for him and now they stopped seeing each other because of an argument?

Still, if El thought that him holding something back from her was hurtful enough to just end it all, then he'd done the worst thing he could've done.

It was day three or four when his thoughts turned to anger towards Max. He wasn't mad at El, but Max? Boyfriends don't keep secrets? Really? And the way she egged El on—it makes him furious the more he thinks about it.

Ultimately, he knows El was responsible for her own actions. Regardless of Max's manipulation, the final decision was her call, which makes it all the worse. She decided to dump him, not Max. But Max had stepped way out of line and she had no business meddling in his relationship with El.

He contemplates calling Max up to have a talk with her, but what would be the point? He'd just get angry and then she'd get defensive and they wouldn't get anywhere and it certainly wouldn't make El take him back.

He's been avoiding Party gatherings so he doesn't have to see either of them. Lucas and Will try to contact him multiple times and they show up at his doorstep one day, but talking with them didn't solve anything. Will was quietly sympathetic (although, he can tell that he's hoping that this means Mike will spend more time with him, which makes him feel even worse). Lucas tries to lift him back up with all sorts of stereotypical things about women, but he isn't having it. He respects El, even if she is his ex now.

He's feeling a little better by day seven. It had been a week, and he was still alive. Life was still moving on, albeit sluggishly and mundanely without the girl with chocolate doe eyes. He was okay though. His heart ached and he missed her terribly, but he'd learned to breathe with the pain.

Then something changed. He finally sees her again on day eight.

-

He's reading an Avengers comic when there's a knock on the basement door. Half of him wants to hide and pretend he isn't here, but whoever it is, they probably mean well and he should at least greet them to tell them he's still not in the mood to hang out. With a sigh, he walks over to the door anyway and opens it cautiously.

His heart stutters. It's El. Beautiful El.

The second before they lock eyes, her face is blank, almost coldly so. She looks passive and strong, yet as soon as she looks at him, a flicker of warmth passes through her eyes. He knows he should say something, but the way she's looking at him steals his breath away. Isn't he not supposed to feel this way anymore?

He watches as she struggles to maintain her resolve, but after a few beats, her face crumples, and she's throwing her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. He doesn't refuse her (because he can't. Not ever) and wraps his arms around her waist, holding her close and it feels so good to have her in his arms. They stand there like that for a while, breathing one another in and Mike feels the spikes that had pierced his heart slowly start to slip away.

Eventually, her shoulders rise and fall with a sigh and she pulls back.

"We should talk," she says quietly and he nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets sheepishly. They move toward the couch without a word and he watches her as they sit down. Her guard isn't up, he can tell that by the look on her face and he slowly lets his guard down, too. She's not here to fight. She's here to—well, he's not sure what she's here to do, but just being by her side again is soothing whatever ache had made itself a home in his chest.

They haven't said anything and Mike takes that as his cue to go first. Taking a moment to collect himself, he blows out a breath and turns to face her.

"El?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to apologize. For everything. I messed up and I'm sorry. I hurt you and that's not what boyfriends are supposed to do. I should've just told you and I'm sorry I got scared. Not of you, I promise not of you. I just doubted myself and I'm sorry. I really am."

He runs out of words, his heart beating rapidly as if it's trying to reach her through his chest. She's staring at him with a certain warmth in her gaze and he can't tell if it's condescending or forgiving. Either way, he barely breathes as she looks down at her hands and he can almost see the thoughts trying to piece themselves together in her head.

"Max and Lucas got back together."

He blinks. That was the last thing he expected her to say following his apology. She had heard him...right?

"And then they broke up two days later."

He can't help it. He snorts.

"Again?" he quips and she half-smiles, looking back up at him.

"Yeah. Again."

He rolls his eyes playfully, feeling the last of his walls come crumbling down. If she's going to break his heart again, this was the perfect time to do it, because he's vulnerable and in love and right now is when it would hurt the most.

"I don't want to be like them," she continues. "They broke up because Max wouldn't listen to Lucas. I want to listen to you, Mike. I'm sorry I didn't before. I don't want to break up because of stupid stuff. We're not them, we're...we're..."

"Different. We're different," he says quietly and it takes him a beat to realize tears are blurring his vision.

"Yeah, different," she whispers, her smile watery and he wants to pinch himself because there's no way this is real. How is she so...good?

"Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for saying sorry." She scoots closer to him and takes one of his hands, their fingers lacing together and he squeezes once. "I forgive you."

He stops trying to swallow his tears.

"Thanks, El."

"I'm, um—I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have listened to Max. She was wrong. You don't treat me like garbage and I don't think I'm your pet. And you can have secrets."

"I don't want to have secrets if it hurts you, though."

She contemplates this, her brow furrowing, though her thumb idly continues to trace circles on his skin.

"Some secrets hurt. But others are private and they can be just for you. I have secrets that are just for me, too."

He nods, dumbstruck.

"Okay. Cool. I like that."

She smiles, peeking up at him through her lashes.

"Cool. And, um—you don't have to tell me whatever it is. Hopper said you can come over again and he'll keep your secret."

"Really? Does he miss me?"

She chuckles. "He said he doesn't, but I think he does. And..." She scoots forward to whisper conspiratorially.

"I hid all his beer."

"El!" he exclaims and she giggles. It's the cutest thing he's ever heard.

"I gave it back!" she says, playfully rolling her eyes.

"You're the coolest," he replies and doesn't think twice before leaning forward and pecking her on the cheek.

He darts back quickly, forgetting that they were still broken up. He feels his face heat up as he starts to stammer out an apology.

"Sorry, that—I didn't mean—I shouldn't have—"

"Mike," she gently interrupts. "I want us to be able to kiss again, if—if that's okay with you?"

"You want us to get back together?"

"Yes."

"You—you want to get back together with me?"

"Yes, Mike. Can I be your girlfriend again?"

"Of course. If I can be your boyfriend," he replies, feeling like he's floating.

"Duh," she whispers right before she presses a kiss to his lips.

That's when he decides he's going to do it.

"El?"

"Mmm?"

"I actually do want to tell you what I was going to tell you. You know, the big secret?"

She pulls back, her brow furrowed.

"You don't have to. I don't want to make you do it."

"You're not, I swear. I just need to get it off my chest and it's important for—for us."

"Us?"

He nods and stands to his feet, reaching out to pull her up as well. She's looking up at him all curious and trusting and he knows that no matter how she responds, she deserves to know how cared for she is.

"El, I—"

The word is right there. He just has to say it.

"I, um—"

Fear cuts words off again and he shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Why is this so hard to say?" he mutters nervously. "Um, El, I—"

His words are cut off again by a pair of soft, familiar hands wrapping around his wrists and she tugs his hands out of his pockets.

"Mike," she says quietly as she takes a step closer. Her fingers interlace with his and she gazes up at him. Every doubt he has goes quiet at the look in her eyes and it tumbles out of him.

"I love you."

His heart stutters.

His words hang in the air, wrapping themselves around the two. He's breathless and she hasn't taken a breath either and it's like they're suspended in their own patch of time they discovered on their own.

Magic. It's magical.

Until he realizes she's just staring at him and he rushes to lessen the blow.

"If you don't love me back, that's totally fine, but I just thought you should know, you know, something so big. Nothing has to change, I just—yeah. I love you. A lot."

She still doesn't say anything and he clears his throat, his heart starting to shrivel up. He lets go of her hands.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

She shakes her head, suddenly frantic.

"Mike, no, don't be sorry. Look at me. Please?"

He does, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat and finds sparkling joy in her eyes.

"Mike. I love you too."

He blinks.

She's kissing him and he feels his lips respond to hers, but it's like someone pulled the plug on his thoughts and everything goes dead.

She pulls back, a beaming smile on her face that quickly falls into an expression of confusion.

"Mike? Did you hear me?"

Yeah, that's the problem. He heard her.

"I—I love you," he hears her try again, her voice growing softer and more timid and it kicks his thoughts back to life.

"Really?" he whispers, hope glimmering in his chest and he can feel his lips curling up into a bashful grin.

He never believed she felt the same way. He had laid awake many nights since her return in November trying to decide if his love was returned, but the conclusion was always the same. El doesn't love him.

Unless he was utterly wrong.

"Yes," she exclaims, her giggle all breathless and playful. "Yes, you mouthbreather. I love you too."

Happiness rushes through every part of his body and he's reaching for her, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting off her feet, laughing in pure relief. She's laughing too, her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders and he could've sworn they were flying.

"We're in love!" she proclaims as he sets her down and he chuckles.

"We are," he agrees, knowing he's never going to stop smiling.

She stands on her toes and he meets her halfway. Their kiss feels different, warmer, safer, sweeter.

"I love you," he murmurs when they part for the heck of it because he can and she's here and real and this is real.

"I love you too, Michael Wheeler."

"Yeah?" he asks as he nuzzles his nose with hers.

"Always."

Take that, Hopper.


	10. Rain (Post-S2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two of El's experiences with rain--one while she's separated from Mike and one while she's safe in his arms.

The first thunderstorm of the spring happened on day 114 and El had forgotten how much she hated thunderstorms. There hadn’t been one since last fall, thanks to the seasons quickly transitioned into winter and thus, bringing snow instead of rain. And as she’s rapidly realizing, she much prefers the bitter cold of snow to this. 

The first roll of thunder scares her so badly, her entire body jolts as an icy fear shocks through her system. The book she had been attempting to read drops to the floor as she scrambles to the farthest corner of the bed, pressing her back up against the wall. Her eyes dart to the windowpane and she's horrified to see the menacing dark clouds that have long since covered the evening sky. 

A gasp is torn out of her when everything is momentarily brightened in a flash of light off in the distance before the awfully silent anticipation takes hold. Her hands clench to fists and she holds her breath in the eerie stillness. With a boom, the thunder cracks loud and merciless across the land and she swears she can feel the rumble in her bones. 

She’s absolutely terrified. 

There’s no explanation behind her fear of thunderstorms, but that doesn’t make them any less intimidating. They’re loud and unpredictable and she just wants this to either be over or for someone to hold her as the storm wreaks havoc outside. 

Then comes the rain. One second a few drops are sliding softly down her window, plinking on the roof of the cabin, and the next, it’s like someone broke down the wall of a dam. Within seconds, the earth outside is soaked and the thin walls of the cabin do nothing to muffle the noise. The raindrops are thick and powerful, barely concealing the sound of the wind as it howls through the trees. The wood of the cabin creaks in protest at the relentless beating from the storm and when the next crack of thunder sounds, she realizes with a start that she’s shaking. Her hands tremble as she sits petrified on the edge of her bed and she squeezes her eyes shut as the storm intensifies. 

She knows Hopper is just outside, probably watching TV or reading the newspaper in the living room, but she’s still cautious of running to him for comfort. It’s been three months, but her trust for him is still fragile, a result of his intimidating demeanor and his refusal to let her see Mike. 

Mike. 

If she doesn’t snap herself out of it, she could very well hyperventilate and pass out if she’s not careful. It’s happened before in the bad place, but she’s determined not to let her anxiety get the better of her, not anymore. That, however, means getting help. Hopper’s out of the question, so her only other option is the dark-haired boy who never failed to calm her down. 

A particularly bright lightning strike forces a squeak out of her and she darts across her room to grab the black blindfold sitting on her dresser. Ignoring the way the rickety floor groans with every step she takes, she opens her door and is relieved to see Hopper is fast asleep on the couch. Her mind latches onto the television and she drags it into her room, hastily shutting the door behind it. She finds the static frantically, the crackling only barely drowning out the sounds of the storm outside. With shaking fingers, she ties the blindfold around her eyes and tries her hardest to focus on anything but the thunder. 

Miraculously, she fades away from her reality, slipping into nothingness. When her eyes open next, she’s in the Void, and the blanket fort appears in front of her, Mike sitting within its fabric walls, his SuperComm in his hand. She sighs in relief as his voice dances through space.

“...know I’m a bit early today,” he’s in the middle of saying as she dashes over to him and crouches in front of the fort. “But I remember how much thunder scared you and--and I wanted to let you know that I’m here for you if the storm is freaking you out.” He pauses and she smiles, despite the pounding of the rain echoing through the empty plane. She can feel her anxiety start to ease as she lets her eyes trace around his features. He’s changed so much in only four months. He must be growing his hair out, because it’s thicker and swoops lower on his head, framing his cheeks that have rounded out. His voice has dropped a few notches, but it still sends the same flurry of butterflies through her stomach. 

They're growing up together and she desperately hopes he'll get to watch her grow up too. 

When he speaks again, his cheeks are tinged with a delicate shade of pink. 

“If you were here--“ He’s interrupted by a clap of thunder that amplifies in the Void and she shivers, keeping her eyes on Mike. He winces and glances towards what she assumes is a window. 

“If you were here, I’d give you a big hug,” he mumbles and she can feel her heart swell, wishing she could be wrapped up in his arms right now.  
“And I’d want to hold you until you weren’t scared anymore. I’d tell you everything was okay and that I wasn’t going anywhere.” She watches as he sighs and grips his device a little harder. “I’m still not going anywhere, El. I’m not going to quit calling you and I promise to call you during storms from now on. I hope you aren’t scared right now. I wish I could be with you.” 

She lets out a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. She's not scared, not anymore. She can barely breathe at the sincerity of his words. She’s all but forgotten about the storm by now, her attention on the wonderful boy in front of her. 

“I hope you’re safe, El. And I hope I get to see you soon. I’ll stay here until the thunderstorm ends, okay?” he finishes. 

A tear trickles down her cheek.

She sat in the Void with him for as long as she could that day, even when he was just sitting there and reading a comic book. His presence, or at least an image of it, was what gave her endurance these days and she was more than happy to spend a little extra time with him. When she finally had to go, she was so tired from the energy she had exerted that she fell asleep immediately when she got back, Mike’s gentle, sweet voice floating through her thoughts. 

There were two more thunderstorms in Hawkins after that, but none nearly as bad as the first. Still, El found that Mike was true to his word. During every storm, he never failed to be seated in the blanket fort, speaking soothing words into his walkie talkie to calm the girl he so desperately hoped was alive.

Eventually, the harsh storms gave way to spring showers and she could finally breathe again during the soft humming of raindrops falling on their roof. She grew rather fond of their peaceful nature and slowly, but surely came to enjoy the rain. She always wished, however, that she could share those moments with a certain someone. 

And then one day, she did. 

...

It was the picture-perfect afternoon that everyone dreams of. 

No responsibilities, nowhere to be, nothing to do but listen to the spring rain pitter-patter against the windowpanes and run down the sides of the house. For once, life has slowed down. 

And Michael Wheeler never wants to be anywhere other than where he is right now.

The girl curled up to his chest is warm and snuggly, her chestnut hair tickling his chin as he runs his fingers through it. A blanket is draped over them and he’s completely content, his body buzzing where El is pressed up against him, which is practically everywhere as they snuggle in his basement. His other arm, the one not tangled in her hair, lays in his lap, and although he itches to hold her, she enjoys tracing the lines on his palm, admiring every curve, every mark of him. The rain is making them sleepy, but the sleepy where all you want is the presence of someone else. 

When the rain started, he pushed aside his studies and they fell onto the couch. She got as close to him as she could, knees curled up on his lap, head resting contently on his chest, letting the shape of her body conform to his and he couldn’t be happier. With a sigh, he gently tugs his hand from her and wraps his arms around her small form, pulling her close against his chest. She hums happily, her hands curling into his shirt as her face nestles into his neck making his skin tingle. 

He doesn't know for sure, but he has a feeling he knows what she’s thinking about.

There’s something about rain that always draws them physically closer together and he’s positive it has something to do with the night he found her. It had been pouring, soaking through his rain jacket, but they kept pushing on until their flashlight beams landed on a small, shivering, vulnerable girl. The irony of her, safe and dry in his arms as the very element that surrounded them when they met in the first place falls to the earth outside is overwhelming and he softly plants the tiniest kisses against her hair.

He remembers a time when rain and thunderstorms made him think about her and only her. It got so bad that he started calling her early whenever a storm turned violent. If a storm had brought her to him, surely a storm could bring her home.

That hypothesis had been wrong, but when she brought it up some months after her return, he’d sighed in relief knowing his calls hadn’t been in vain. 

“Mike, you chase away all my storms," she had told him. "Whether they’re out there,” she had gestured to a nearby window, “or in here,” she finished, her finger tapping against her head.

He smiles at the memory, nuzzling his face into the crown of her head as the rain continues to thrum outside. His heart thrums with it, beating out the single syllable that belongs to the girl from the rain.


	11. Story Time (Post-S3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike gets his wisdom teeth out and while he's recovering, El suggests they write a story together.

“Remind me why I’m doing this?”

El frowns and watches Mike’s knuckles grow white as he grips the steering wheel tighter. 

“If you don’t, the pain is going to get worse, remember?” 

He hums absentmindedly and she can see that his shoulders are still stiff with tension. 

“Are you...are you nervous?” 

“What?? No, why would I be nervous??” 

He’s totally nervous. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Mike,” she continues, her hand resting on his thigh. “You’ll be asleep for it and then I’ll get to take care of you when it’s over. All you’ll have to do is lay there and eat Jello.” 

That earns her a smile and he lets go of the steering wheel with one hand to hold hers. 

It’s the first day of their college freshmen spring break and her boy (er...man) was getting his wisdom teeth out. It’s a simple procedure—Jonathan had just gotten his out over winter break and it wasn’t enjoyable, but he survived. 

“Why are you nervous?” 

“I dunno—I just don’t like the idea that they’re gonna knock me out so they can rip teeth out of my head.” 

Fair enough. 

“And you’re still sure you don’t want your mom there? We could turn around and—“ 

“No, hell no. She’d be all frantic and sappy and treat me like I was five years old.” 

“She cares for you,” El says simply, leaving a kiss on the back of his hand. 

“Yeah, I know. But I’d rather have you be frantic and sappy,” he remarks cheekily and she laughs. 

“Seriously though, thank you for coming with me,” he adds, squeezing her hand. 

“Anything for you,” she murmurs and her heart flips at the blush that paints his face. It’s been six years and she’ll never get tired of that. 

He blows out a breath when they arrive at the dentist’s office and she leans over to peck him on the cheek. 

“It’ll be over before you know it,” she tells him reassuringly as they get out of the car. 

“What if they stab me and I die?” 

“Mike,” she chides, giving him a pointed look as she slips her hand into his, opening the door with the other. 

The secretary greets them warmly and El takes a seat on one of the couches as Mike checks himself in. It isn’t lost on her how his hands are shoved deep in his pockets and he keeps glancing behind the secretary to what little he can see of the operating area as if they’re going to come out any second to drag him away. 

She understands his anxieties, she really does. Being poked and prodded and giving up control of your body to someone you’ve never met is scary. He’s been a relatively healthy guy for most of his life, so besides the medical attention he received for his injuries at Starcourt when they were younger, he hasn’t had a chance to build his tolerance to this environment. He’s safe, though. She’ll make sure of it.

She smiles at him as he walks over and he plops down next to her with a sigh. It doesn’t take long for his leg to start bouncing and he fidgets with her fingers when she offers her hand to him. 

“Mike?” 

“Mmhm?” 

“If you say silly things because of the drugs, I promise not to make fun of you.”

He groans, sinking into his seat, and she giggles. 

“You’re not making this better,” he says playfully. 

“I know,” she replies, leaving a kiss on the back of his hand. 

It isn’t too long after that when a nurse comes around the corner and asks for him. 

“Alright, just follow me, Michael,” the nurse says, turning to walk down the hallway. Mike stands up and shoots her one last anxious look as he hesitates, his footsteps faltering. 

“I promise I’ll be here when it’s over, love,” she whispers, her voice tender as she squeezes her hand. Finally, his shoulders drop, his breaths begin to flow regularly and he squeezes her hand back before he’s making his way down the hallway. 

The procedure takes about an hour, during which El thumbs through the magazines they have sitting on the table until she gets bored and people-watches instead. There aren’t that many people to watch but she amusedly observes frantic mother after frantic mother bringing their teenagers in and she’s starting to see Mike’s point about not coming with Karen. Holly Wheeler had hit a bit of a rebellious streak now that she had started middle school and Mrs. Wheeler just needed someone to take care of again. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a kind voice says, breaking through her thoughts and El turns to see the nurse that had taken her boyfriend back. “Are you with Michael?” 

“I am. Is he doing okay?” El asks and the woman nods, before gesturing for her to follow. 

“He’s just now waking up and the procedure went smoothly,” she explains as El collects her things and stands to follow her. “He might be a little loopy, but that’ll wear off in a few hours. I’ll explain the recovery process with the two of you, alright?” 

El nods and the nurse smiles, pointing to a doorway on their right. 

“He’s right in here,” she says. “I’m going to go grab his paperwork and then I’ll be right back.” She thanks her and steps into the room. 

He’s propped in a dentist’s chair and El feels her heart clench at the sight of him. His cheeks are puffy underneath the cloth that holds an ice pack to his face and his eyes are all droopy and unfocused. He’s breathing through his mouth and it looks painful, but the edges curl up anyway when he sees her. 

Cute. 

“Hi El,” he murmurs, except with his swollen cheeks, it sounded more like, “Ah El.” 

“Hi,” she replies, taking his hand and tracing circles along the back of it. “How are you feeling?” 

He shrugs. “Little weird. My face is numb,” he observes and raises a hand to poke at his cheeks. She suppresses a giggle and clasps that hand as well, bringing it down from his face. 

“I don’t think you should touch it, love,” she tells him. “You might irritate it.”

His brows furrow and the look he gives her is so utterly confused and put out that she presses kisses to the back of his hands, hiding her smile there. After a beat, his features relax, and the dopey half-smile returns. He goes quiet for a little bit, his eyes glazing over again as he lazily glances around the room and she takes a moment to drag the chair in the corner over to him, plopping down and taking his hands again. Her movement pulls his gaze back to her face and even though he’s a little out of it, she still feels her cheeks heat up at the intense way he’s looking at her. 

She smiles at him, squeezing his hands tightly before she realizes his lips are twitching. It looked like he was trying to close them and she frowned as he shuffled closer to her, his mouth moving strangely. His eyes shine with something that looks like hope and it finally clicks. 

“Mike,” she says, unable to help the laughter in her voice. “I’m not going to kiss you, not when you’re like this.” 

He looks crestfallen and she giggles again, before leaning forward to brush the bangs off his forehead. She places a kiss on his skin, once, then twice, and smiles at the sound of contentment he makes. He’s pouting or, at least, trying to when she pulls back, and she boops his nose with a grin. 

“It’s just for a few days, then you can kiss me all you want. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” she reassures him. He sighs, then goes to say something when his nurse walks back in with their paperwork. 

He fidgets with her fingers as the nurse goes over what he’s allowed to eat, how long he should rest for and any symptoms of infection to look out for. El pays careful attention, knowing she’d have to relay all this to Mrs. Wheeler when they got back. 

“Any questions?” she asks once she’s finished. 

“When can I kiss my girlfriend again?” 

“Mike!” El scolds, but the nurse just looks amused. 

“I think that’s for her to decide. Any other concerns?” 

El shakes her head before Mike says anything else stupid and the nurse smiles. 

“Alright then. Michael, you are all good to go. Do you think you can walk?” 

He nods and even though she doesn’t entirely believe him, she steps back to give him space, still holding tight to his hand. He stands up slowly, looking at the ground in concentration and groans when he’s fully upright, swaying slightly. 

“Hey, hey, hey, I got you,” El rushes to reassure him, looping her arm around his waist and his arm wraps tightly around his shoulders. 

“Are you sure you don’t need a wheelchair?” their nurse asks, her brow creased with concern and Mike shakes his head. 

“Just a little dizzy, I can make it.” 

She knows he doesn’t want to be babied, and if he is, he only wants her or his mom to do it. He shifts some of his weight off her, takes a step and she hastily moves with him.

It’s slow going, but he wasn’t lying, he was strong enough to at least make it to the car. She fishes the keys out of his pocket and keeps her arm around him as she unlocks the passenger side. 

She‘s alarmed to find that his face has grown paler since they left the room, but he climbs into the car without complaint and she buckles his seat belt for him when he makes no move to do it himself. 

He’s relatively quiet on the way home, save for the few times he whines when she has to pull her hand away from where it was laced with his to turn a corner, to which she playfully rolls her eyes and grasps his hand again when she’s able to. 

His eyes are all droopy and she’s pretty sure he’s half asleep by the time she pulls up in the Wheeler driveway. She considers walking over to Lucas’s to help her get her boyfriend to the basement door, but as she’s walking over to the passenger side, Mrs. Wheeler pokes her head out the front door. 

“El, honey, how did it go? Is he doing okay?” she calls, shutting the door behind her as she makes her way over to the car. 

El opens the door before answering and she giggles when he waves.

“Everything went fine, he’s just a little dizzy,” she replies, watching as he slowly unbuckles his seatbelt and she steps back to give him space to get out, watching his movements closely. 

“Hi mom,” he slurs as he scoots out of the car. “My teeth are gone.” 

“I can see that,” Karen replies, shooting El a smile. “Can you walk?” 

“Yeah, just give me a second,” he replies as he pushes himself up and El wraps a hand around his arm to steady him. 

She supports him as he shuffles to the back door, Karen rushing to open it for him once they get there and Mike’s face lights up at what his mom had set up for him in the basement. 

She’s set up a bed for him on the couch, his favorite blanket (though he’ll never admit it) draped over the sheets she’s covered it in and the TV has been moved down here from upstairs. On the table to the right sits more painkillers than El’s ever seen in one place and three stacks of VHS’s that she knows they’ll most likely get all the way through by the time he’s recovered. 

“All this for me?” Mike mumbles as he hobbles over to the couch and Karen grins. 

“Of course sweetie. You thought I’d just let you suffer down here?” she asks. He tries to smile back, but it’s more of a grimace and his attention turns to settling down on the cushions and slowly wiggling his way under the blanket. 

“Mmm, this is nice,” he murmurs and El kneels beside him, helping him get comfortable. 

“Now, what did the doctor say about your recovery?” the older woman asks and El tells her all the information she can remember to her, taking extra time on the foods he’s allowed to eat and what to do if he starts bleeding. When she finishes, she glances back at her boy, only to find him completely asleep. 

“Well, that was fast,” Karen remarks and El chuckles as she brushes a piece of hair off his forehead. 

“Do you mind if I stay here for a little bit, Mrs. Wheeler?” She doesn’t want to intrude, but any opportunity to stay by Mike’s side was one worth taking. 

“Of course. I’ll go make sure we have all the foods he can have and I’ll probably run to the store if I need to get him anything else. You’re welcome to keep him company and you know you’re always welcome in your fort.” She gestures to the blanket structure that has literally stood the test of time and El feels her heart warm at the thought of spending a whole afternoon in the space that will always be hers. 

“Thank you,” she replies with a soft smile, and Karen nods, moving closer to kiss her son’s head before she makes her way up the stairs. 

Mike sleeps for the rest of the afternoon. El spends longer than she’d to admit sitting beside him and tracing the features of his face. Even with his cheeks beginning to swell, he was still devastatingly handsome and she never gets tired of looking at him. 

He’s still dozing by the time she has to go home for dinner and with a whispered promise to see him tomorrow, she tiptoes out the back door. 

-

She’d expected him to look worse the next day, but nothing could’ve prepared her for just how puffy his cheeks had gotten overnight. 

“Oh, Mike,” she says sympathetically as she closes the basement door behind her. He’s propped up on the couch, his back against the armrest and her heart twists at the small smile that twitches across his swollen face. 

“How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Did you sleep okay?” she asks, crossing to him and taking his hand when he reaches out to her. He shrugs in response, his eyes half-lidded and his jaw limp and slack. 

“Ah’m okay,” he mumbles, before wincing and bringing his other hand up to his cheek. She frowns. 

“Does it hurt to talk?” 

He nods, looking sad, and defeated. 

“Sorry,” he whispers and she squeezes his hand. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Michael,” she tells him and his lips quirk up into a smile because he knows she only uses his full name to tease him. “I’d still love you even if you never talked again.” 

He blushes and she grins. 

“What would you like to do instead?”

Again, he shrugs and looks at her expectantly. 

“You don’t mind?” 

He shakes his head. 

She purses her lips and glances around the basement. Her eyes land on his DM manual and she knows exactly what they should do today. 

“We could write a story.” 

He furrows his eyebrows, taking a second to ponder what she said before he gestures back and forth between them. 

“Yes,” she replies, “I want to write with you. Is that okay?” 

His eyes light up and she grins. 

“I’ll go grab your notebook, start thinking of story ideas!” she tells him before she darts up the stairs towards his room. 

He used to write all the time in high school. He loved telling her his latest story idea or the recent plot point he had stumbled across and she adored watching his face whenever he rambled on about how much he loved storytelling. He’d kept notebook after notebook of his scribbled ideas and she knows exactly where his half-used one is that he left behind when they moved for college. 

His love for science won out over his love for words and he was happily pursuing a biology major with a minor in chemistry, but she knows he misses the free time to craft a story on the side. Now that he’s stuck on a couch with nothing else to do, she knows that creative brain of his will come up with something incredible. 

She finds the faded blue notebook in his desk drawer and grabs a pen, heading back down to the basement before she lets herself be tempted to go through what he’s already written. This is private after all and she’s honored that she’s one of the few people who know that he continued this hobby past middle school. 

He’s just as she left him when she hurries down the basement steps and he curls up his leg to make room for her on the other end of the couch. 

“What if you wrote a sentence and then I wrote a sentence and we went back and forth?” she asks as she plops down, flipping to a fresh page in the notebook and uncapping the pen. He nods compliantly and she hands both things to him when he reaches for them. 

His first line takes him five seconds to write and she’s suspicious as he hands the notebook back. 

“Mike loves El”, is written on the first line and she rolls her eyes, though she’s sure the blush on her cheeks dulls the effect. 

“No, dummy. A good sentence to start a story with,” she tells him and he pouts as well as he can as he takes it back. “And I love you too,” she adds as he scribbles more words onto the page and he smiles up at her so beautifully even with his swollen cheeks. 

“Mike loves El and El loves Mike,” is written when he returns it to her. 

Alright then. She can work with this. 

“Together, they started a family,” she writes and worries for a moment that she’s going too far, but she trusts him to tell her if she is. Her addition causes his eyebrows to raise, but he continues the story anyway. 

“Mike always knew El would be a great mother, but seeing her hold their firstborn child made him want to cry.” 

“El loved the child her and Mike made.” 

“They named him Skywalker.” 

She laughs at that one. “You better not,” she tells him, before writing, “He looked just like Mike—dark hair, dark eyes and lots and lots of freckles.” 

“He was beautiful like his mother.” 

“They promised their son they would always take care of him.” 

“We will,” Mike murmurs after reading her sentence and reaches over to squeeze her hand. 

“They promised their love to him like they had promised their love to one another at their wedding a few years prior,” he writes next and her stomach flips. 

They’d agreed at the start of college to wait for a little bit before he proposed. They had never doubted that they would get married and while they avoided the topic for most of high school, an emotional conversation their senior year had them admitting that neither of them wanted a future that the other wasn’t in. Marriage, they concluded. They were going to get married one day. 

El couldn’t wait. 

“Their wedding was the best day of El’s life.” 

“She was a stunning, heavenly angel when she walked down the aisle and Mike had never felt so lucky to have earned her affections.” 

“And then she tripped.” 

Mike laughs, before wincing and reaching for the ice pack on the table. 

“Sorry,” she says between her giggles and he shakes his head in amusement. 

“Worth it,” he responds. “You won’t trip, I promise.” She watches as he scratches out her last line and eagerly waits to see what he writes instead. 

“She glided down the aisle with the grace and beauty of a shooting star dancing across the night sky.” 

She can feel pink that heats her cheeks. 

“Mike looked more handsome than she had ever seen him and she couldn’t believe he was all hers.” 

“Forever, he promised her. He’d be all hers forever.” 

“And she was all his. Mrs. El Wheeler.”

“The road to their happily-ever-after wasn’t easy, but they never left the other’s side as they traveled down it together, hand-in-hand.” 

“The road was built with promises and all the love in the universe.” 

“And it all began with a few raindrops and a light,”

“When she found her home with him.” 

“The End.” 

El swallows the lump in her throat and wipes a tear from her cheek. When she looks up, his eyes are rich with love and she sets the notebook down. He opens his arms to her and she crawls into them, curling up to his chest and nestling under his chin, being careful not to hurt his face. 

“I like our story,” she whispers, goosebumps rising on her skin as his fingers trace along her arm. “No matter how it actually turns out, I’m excited to live it with you.” 

“I like it too,” he whispers back. “I don’t want to do anything without you.” 

“Me neither,” she responds and that was that. 

They kept the story they wrote that day. Mike protected the notebook it was written in with his life and surprised El with it on their first wedding anniversary, three days after it was confirmed that there was a life growing inside her. She insisted they frame it and it would hang above their bed for years to come. 

As for the present day, Mike healed quickly and the first thing he did when his cheeks stopped hurting was kiss the love of his life senseless. 

“What was that for?” she asked when she pulled back, panting and breathless.

He smiles and kisses her temple. 

“For being the best part of my story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are doing well and I apologize for not updating for a little bit. I just wanted to say that you'll never get anything but love and respect from me and I wish you peace and hope during everything that's happening.


	12. Father (Post-S2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into El's experiences with paternal figures and what that means for the boy who could father her children one day.

All in all, El’s third Christmas in Hawkins outside of the lab had been a success. 

It was a quieter day than the past two years, as most of her friends’ families decided to venture outside of their town to go visit relatives and friends for the holidays, leaving El, Mike, and Dustin at home for the first week of break. Dustin didn’t mind third-wheeling with the couple as they all got together to laze about, watching movies, building snowmen, whatever the three of them felt like doing as they finally got to breathe after their first semester of sophomore year. The trio got along well, making for a relaxed, enjoyable first week while they waited for their friends to get back. 

El spent Christmas morning with Hopper exchanging the little gifts they’d gotten for each other. They spent the day in their pajamas, stuffing themselves with whatever food they had while watching old Christmas movies on their TV.

Later that evening, after convincing their parents to let them duck out of their familial festivities, Mike and Dustin joined the pair at the cabin, with Hopper and Dustin turning a blind eye while Mike and El traded ‘Merry Christmas’ kisses. 

Among the gift-giving and cookie-eating that commenced that night, Mike mentioned his aunt and uncle coming down from upstate Indiana to spend a few days with them that week, only to stop when he realized they’d be here the day El was planning on coming over so they could spend time together. 

“Do you want to meet them?” he asks her timidly, knowing she’s not fond of new people and she bites her lip, not wanting to say no, but the shy side of her is cautious. “They’re bringing my baby cousin Adam too.” 

That sparked her interest. She had never gotten to see a baby up close since all the people she knew were done having kids and she’d only ever gotten a glimpse of the babies around Hawkins. Enthusiastically, she agrees and Mike smiles. 

“Cool, I’ll let them know. They’re awesome people, I’m sure they’d love to meet you too!” he tells her and she grins, excited to meet a new part of his family. 

That, however, changes quickly. The more she thinks about it, the more her thoughts remind her that she could be horrible with babies and could mess something up terribly, which would leave a terrible impression on Mike's relatives. 

Her stomach is doing flips when she arrives at the Wheeler house a few days later. This is not an uncommon occurrence, but today it’s out of her unrelenting nerves rather than excitement and she taps her hand on her leg as she hears the quiet conversations inside halt and footsteps come closer to the door. 

Mike opens it, much to her relief and she returns his loving smile, stepping into his embrace as he reaches for her. The knot of anxiety in her stomach begins to melt away as she breathes him in, a little less scared as he squeezes her shoulders. 

He lets her pull back when she’s ready and she glances over Mike’s shoulder to see an older man with a kind face leaning against the entryway of the living room. 

“El, this is my Uncle Mark,” Mike says and she steps forward to shake the man’s hand. 

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” she says as politely as she can. 

“Nice to meet you too, El. Mike’s been talking about you for a while,” Uncle Mark replies, his eyes teasing, yet affectionate and she decides she likes him. A blush spreads across her cheeks as she pictures Mike going on and on about her, almost giggling when Mike clears his throat. 

“And this is Aunt Donna,” he says hastily as her gaze falls on the woman sitting in a rocking chair right by the fireplace. She smiles warmly up at her and El does her best to return her greeting, but she’s too curious about the bundle Aunt Donna is holding in her arms. 

“This is Adam?” she asks quietly, not wanting to seem like she’s disregarding Mike’s aunt, but wanting to get a closer look at the child. 

It catches her off guard when the woman gently asks, “Do you want to hold him?” Her tone is encouraging and El can't refuse. 

She nods wordlessly and goes to take a seat on the couch, Mike sitting beside her as Donna rises to her feet with the bundle in her arms, cradling him delicately. El wipes her hands on her palms, swallowing hard and Mike’s hand on her back grounds her. Confidently, she reaches out and his mother smiles at her before setting the child she birthed into El’s arms. 

There’s a moment of panic when neither person has a steady grip on him, and El hurriedly secures her arms around the baby, marveling at its soft warmth. When he’s supported and nestled safely in her lap, her eyes flicker up to his face and she gasps quietly as she pulls back the corner of the blanket resting on his cheek. 

He looks fragile and beautiful as he sleeps peacefully, his perfect face twitching every once in a while as sights and sensations float through his brain. Her eyes trace the curve of his button nose and the shape of his mouth, marveling at how little a human could be. Her finger brushes timidly across the smoothness of his cheek and her heart simply melts when the child nuzzles into the warmth of her hand, still fast asleep. 

“He’s beautiful,” she whispers breathlessly, daring to look back up at Adam’s parents for a second to see them watching her adoringly. 

“Isn’t he?” Uncle Mark responds gently and El nods, before readjusting him in her arms, gazing back down at his face. 

This tiny human trusts her, she muses. He’s helpless, unable to fend for himself, and even in his sleep, he trusts her to watch over him. While that thought should scare her, something inside her swells at the thought of being so trustworthy in the mind of a child. Even though she isn’t related to him (yet) and this is the first time she’s ever laid eyes on him, she feels a stirring need to protect the bundle in her arms with everything she has. His trust is precious to her and she would do anything to defend it because she knows what it’s like to be helpless. 

She jolts from her wandering thoughts when the baby shifts and begins to whimper. Out of instinct, she quietly shushes him, doing her best to rock him side to side, but it’s no use as his whimpers become cries, and her heart rate spikes as he scrunches up his face and wails. 

She panics, feeling inadequate to deal with him. She doubles her efforts to calm him down and protect him the way he’s asking her to, but he continues to cry and scream and she doesn’t know what to do and she must’ve done something wrong and she can’t fix this--

“I’ve got him, El, don’t worry about it,” a voice comes from above her and she looks up to see Mike’s uncle reaching out his arms to scoop up his child. Numbly, she hands him over, watching him cradle the boy delicately and she shrinks back into Mike’s arms. 

He pulls her to him and presses his lips against her temple. “How was it?” he murmurs against her hair. 

A lump forms in her throat and she concentrates on breathing in and out. She focuses on her heartbeat, urging it to slow until it thumps gently, as she listens to the thrumming heartbeat below her ear. 

“That was overwhelming. He’s so little,” she settles on eventually, fiddling with the edge of his shirt. He sighs as he holds her a little bit tighter. 

“I’m proud of you,” he tells her quietly, his smile warming his voice. The heaviness on her chest begins to lift as the gentle touch of Mike’s fingers stroking her arm to centers her. 

Donna has excused herself to go to the restroom and Mike’s uncle has taken to pacing around the living room he gently bounces his son up and down and whispering to him in hushed tones, quieting his cries. El’s eyes follow him lazily as she snuggles in Mike’s embrace, awestruck at the patience and love he holds for his child. 

When the man takes a seat in the chair by the crackling fire, her thoughts begin to drift to her own paternal figures. 

Her mind starts at Hopper. Although he never met her as a baby and wasn’t around when she was still a little child, he’s cradled her like that before, like nothing in the world could stop him from making her feel loved. Whether it was after a nightmare, a fight, or when she just needed a hug, he knew when to drop everything and give her the comfort she longed for. There was something about a father figure embracing her that made her feel secure like she would never need to worry about her safety again. 

Although, she wasn’t the first daughter the man she now calls her father had held. 

She’s seen Sarah’s baby pictures before. She’s seen the overwhelming joy that the camera captured when he held her, his only biological child. It’s the most alive she’s ever seen his face, painted with wonder, devotion, anxiety, love. She could see it all in the picture she had found in Sarah’s belongings. Sarah had been his light. 

El had always struggled with the knowledge that she replaced her. A small part of her was convinced she would never live up to Hopper’s expectations of a daughter or that she was just a stand-in, an archetype of what he wished he had. No matter how many times her adoptive father tried to convince her that she had filled the black hole in his heart beyond what he could've ever asked for, she was prone to insecurity, and so, would lay awake at night wondering if Hopper was awake too, crying over the little girl he had lost, the child he would never have. 

As she continued to watch Mark tend to Adam, she couldn’t help but notice the same emotions Hopper held for Sarah shining on his face and she internally begs whatever higher force is listening to let him keep his son, to let him cherish him and raise him like...

‘Like Hopper never got to raise his,’ her mind fills in for her and while she agrees with that statement, the next thought that pops up wriggles through her attempts to grasp it and before she knows it, a voice whispers, ‘Like your mama never got to raise you.' Suddenly, she’s squeezing her eyes shut as memories of the man she had called her dad for the first twelve years of her life come flooding in. 

He was a man who most certainly never held her with the tenderness that Adam is held with. He refused to nurture her through childhood and only wanted her so he could win a war, not because he cared for her in any capacity. 

When Mama had shown her what happened, she’d seen herself as a baby, even more delicate than Adam is right now, being ripped from her mother by that man, breaking the bond between mother and child as soon as she was in his arms. 

That man was not her Papa. She hates that she ever called him that and that the label led her to believe that he was her loyal guardian, that he would care for her the way a father would his child. 

For a moment, she allows herself to be selfish. Bitterness settles in her stomach as she watches Mike’s uncle whisper sweet nothings to his son. 

That could’ve been her and Mama. She could’ve been rocked by the light of a fire, snug and warm in a blanket. She could’ve been calmed by her lullaby, instead of the cold nursery rhymes Papa used to read to her. She could’ve been a normal child, growing up beneath the sun under her mother’s watchful gaze, but instead, she got her light from the artificial bulbs that hurt her eyes when she woke up in the morning and she was watched through cameras. 

It scares her how easily they were able to manipulate her and convince her that the scars they were giving her were normal. Her young mind couldn’t have known better having never seen the outside world, and so, the bad men took advantage of the precious vulnerability a baby holds without an inch of remorse. 

Make one wrong move and Adam could be damaged too.

She simultaneously wants to hug Adam’s dad out of gratitude for his unconditional love toward his son and plead with him that he be careful with the delicate life he holds in his arms. She supposes, though, that he most likely realized what having a child entailed the second Adam arrived into the world. 

She admires him. She admires Hopper as well for the strength and durability he held in raising a child, because heaven knows their job is beyond important and ridiculously easy to mess up. It’s almost too easy, her thoughts remark darkly. 

With a start, a thought occurs to her that she's never come across before. She sucks in a breath, her heart twisting and turning as she stands up quickly, forcing herself to look away from the father and child before her. 

Mike’s hand is slipping in hers and she distantly hears him call her name, but her mind is spiraling to a terrifying place, one she’s never visited before. She spares a glance back at him to see his concerned eyes accented by the fire. 

“Come with me?” she whispers, her voice wobbling as she tugs on his hand. He nods, his brow furrowed, but gets to his feet anyway. “Excuse us,” El quickly remembers to say to the man sitting across from them as she leads Mike out of the room and up the stairs. 

He remains silent as they head for his room, fumbling for his doorknob in the darkness. She pushes the door open, leading him in without a word and he flicks on the lights, turning to face her with worry sketched into his features. 

“El, what’s wrong?” he asks her, taking hold of both her hands and lacing their fingers together. Her mind shuts the door and she ducks her head, piecing together her words as he waits patiently. 

“Mike, if...if we...,” she starts, but it catches up to her how presumptuous what she needs to tell him is. She doesn’t want him to take this the wrong way, but this is important. Really important. When she looks back up into his warm, honest eyes, she lets her fears wash away as she gazes at the boy who could one day be her husband. 

“Mike, promise me something.” Her voice is so soft, she briefly wonders if he even understood her at all, but he takes a step forward, squeezing her hands as he replies. 

“Anything." 

Finding strength in his eyes, she continues. 

“If we ever have kids...promise...” She releases a shuddering breath. “Promise me you’ll be the best father you can possibly be to them.” 

She trusts Mike with all of her being. 

She also trusted Papa. 

There is no connection between the two men and she’s aware that they couldn’t be more different if they tried, but that doesn’t stop her thoughts from flashing to their future children. She knew somewhere in her heart that they were going to be parents one day of a beautiful, delicate, defenseless baby, born out of the unfathomable love they hold for one another and that baby is going to blindly trust them for its survival. 

If they screw it up, if the baby’s father screws it up, the loss of paternal love would destroy any child, let alone their’s. 

It would mean trauma beyond repair. Scars. Nightmares. Flashbacks. Pain. The same pain she seeks to soothe within her every single day. 

She won't let that happen. She hasn’t even met their child yet and she’s already prepared to defend it with her life. 

She holds her breath, fearing for a moment what her boyfriend will say. The look on his face is one of confusion before it gives way to intense concern and she knows he’s wondering where this came from. She waits patiently, holding his gaze until his features soften into determination. He takes a step closer to her, letting go of one of her hands to cradle her cheek and she can feel her pulse racing as she looks into his bottomless eyes. 

“El,” he begins, his voice soft and serious. “I promise you with all of my heart that I will love and protect and support our future children with everything I have. No matter what happens, I’ll always be there for them and they will have the father they need. I won’t be like your Papa, not even close. Hell, I won’t even be like my dad. I’ll do everything I can to be the dad they deserve. You have my word, El. They’ll always be safe.” 

She exhales slowly, the tension easing off her shoulders and she smiles at him gratefully before wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head against his sweater. There are tears in her throat and she lets them fall as she clings to the wonderful boy she knows will be by her side for the rest of her life. 

He understands. He understands this fear that's buried within her, maybe better than she does, and he’s willing to work through it with her. She clings to him tighter, wanting him to know how much she appreciates him. 

She’s so scared that she’ll raise a damaged child, but he knows that, in a way that no one else does. And maybe he’s afraid of the same thing with her. 

“I promise to be a good mother,” she whispers, her voice muffled by his shoulder, but he hears her all the same and squeezes her fiercely, pressing his lips to her head. “You will be an amazing mother,” he murmurs. “Our kids will be lucky to have you.” 

Her chuckle shakes through her tears. “They’re going to love you,” she tells him, meaning it with all her heart. 

“I love you,” he replies and she turns her face to nuzzle into his neck. 

“I love you too,” she whispers back. 

She never doubted how strong a parent he would be after that. Her faith that their children would be sheltered by him never faltered as she watched him grow into a young man that she fell more and more in love with through every passing day.

Ten years later, she would watch, exhausted but elated from her hospital bed, as he held his firstborn child, a son, for the first time. He would cradle him lovingly, tears streaming in his cheeks, the pure, overwhelming joy and adoration shining brightly on his face, just as it had on Hopper's and Mark's.

She knew her fears would forever be silenced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Father's Day! I hope you all are well!


	13. Ice (Post-S1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a prompt request from a ff.net guest reviewer by the name of Mileven fan. Out of the seven prompts they listed, I managed to squeeze all of them but one in here. The ones included here are: Mike and El have their first snow day, Mike gets injured and goes to the hospital, Eleven gets sick, a sleepover in the blanket fort, Mike surprises El and a bunch of Mileven fluff. I hope I did all those justice!
> 
> Additionally, in honor of ST's fourth anniversary, this is written in a canon-divergent post-S1. Before the second season came out, it was in my personal canon that El was rescued from the Upside-Down after ten months of surviving there by Hopper and the Party and lived with Hopper in his trailer. It was a bit strange to write a softer, younger, yet still fiercely loyal Mileven, but I hope you enjoy the throwback!

If there's one thing El wants to do for the rest of her life, it's wake up to Michael Wheeler's voice.

At first, she thinks she's dreaming. As his muffled voice floats through the colorless haze she was drifting in, she latches onto it, trying to burrow back down into the world of dreams so she can hold onto it a little longer, but the more she focuses on it, the more awake she becomes. Blearily, she opens her eyes, blinking several times at the sunlight that floods her vision.

It takes a few beats for her to realize that she can still hear Mike's voice and when she hears Hopper's gruff voice say something in response, she freezes with a grin.

Mike is here.

She throws off the covers of her bed and races to the door. Mike is seated on the couch when she opens it, bundled in a thick coat and a fluffy hat that makes his bangs fall into his eyes.

His face lights up when he spots her and she rushes to hug him as he stands up, nestling into his arms.

"What are you doing here?" she murmurs and he pulls back with the most adorable grin.

"Surprise!"

"S-Surprise?"

"Yeah, it's when you do something fun for someone else that they're not expecting."

"And you're my surprise?"

He nods eagerly.

"Thank you for surprising me, Mike," she replies with a shy smile, causing his cheeks to blush pink.

"There's more, kid," Hopper's voice comes from behind them. "Go get dressed—and dress warmly."

Her brow furrows and she looks back to the boy standing beside her.

"Why?" she asks.

"'Cause we have an awesome day ahead of us. Trust me," he replies and she smiles at the thought of spending the whole day with him.

"Okay," she murmurs with a nod and heads back to her room, digging through her closet to find the thickest clothes she owns. She ends up pulling out a sweater of hers and a pair of sweatpants she's never worn.

It hadn't gotten unreasonably cold outside yet and Hopper had kept her safe and warm in the trailer since the temperatures began dropping, so the heaviest clothes she has don't look anything like what Mike had shown up in.

Thankfully, when she re-emerges, Mike is holding a coat similar to his and a pair of boots that she doesn't recognize.

"These are for you," he tells her, handing both to her and she takes them, slipping the coat on easily. She's wiggling her feet into the boots, clutching Mike's hand for support when Hopper speaks from where he's rummaging in the corner chest.

"Damn it, I can't find Sarah's old gloves," he says, throwing up his hands.

"That's okay, she can borrow mine," Mike rushes to offer and Hopper looks like he's about to object, but he sighs and runs a hand through his hair instead.

"If that's okay with you, El can take yours and I'll give you a pair of mine. They'll be pretty big, but they should still protect you," he responds as he heads into his room and her heart twists at his words.

"Protect?" she asks quietly, her brow furrowing. "Are you going to get hurt?"

"No, no, no, we're going to be fine, it's just in case."

"In case of what?"

"Just—we'll be safe El, I promise. I'll keep you safe."

"I'll keep you safe, too."

He blushes at that and nudges her playfully with his shoulder, causing all sorts of flutters in her stomach.

"Alright kid, these are yours," Hopper says, coming back to hand Mike his gloves and she grins at how giant they were going to be on his hands. She tugs on Mike's gloves and after Hopper plops a fluffy hat on her head, he declares that they're ready.

"For what?"

"C'mon," Mike replies instead, and she feels his hand slip into hers. She follows him to the door, getting used to wearing so many layers. When he stops, there's excitement swirling in his eyes.

"El Hopper," he declares and she giggles. "I present to you—snow!"

He opens the door and her jaw drops.

The world has gone white. Everywhere she looks, from the ground to the sky to the trees, is white. Specks of fluff are floating down from the clouds, landing quietly on the blanketed ground. Everything is quiet and she's never seen the world so still.

Curious, she reaches out a hand and watches as one of the fluffs lands on her palm. It sticks, before dissolving into water and she gasps.

"Mike," she whispers, his name turning into a puff of mist. "It's beautiful."

"Isn't it?" he replies, squeezing her hand and she nods, reaching out to catch another one.

"Here, watch this," he says and sticks out his tongue, catching a fluff and pulling it back into his mouth with a grin. Her eyes widen in surprise and she mimics him, sticking out her tongue as well and it isn't long until something wet lands on it.

"It's cold!" she observes as it melts in her mouth and he nods. There's a comfortable silence as they listen to the snow sprinkling onto the ground.

"So do we just look at it?" she says eventually and he shakes his head.

"Nope, this is just the beginning. Follow me," he replies and tugs her down the front steps, rounding the side of the trailer to where the ground underneath is grass rather than the gravelly dirt of the front yard. The snow is crunching underneath her boots as they trek through it, the flakes falling from the sky are brushing her cheeks and Mike's holding tight to her hand. If it wasn't so cold, she'd want it to be like this all the time.

The morning is wonderful. She never knew one could do so many things with a substance that falls from the sky. Mike shows her everything he can think of—from snow angels,

("Mike, what's an angel?"

"You."

She feels her face light up in surprise and he scrambles to recover.

"Um, I mean, a person from heaven who can do magic and heal people and stuff.")

to snowballs,

("What's this called?"

She can tell the pink in his cheeks isn't just from the cold.

"That's a snowball."

"But the Snow Ball's in two months."

The smile that crosses his face is soft and full of hope.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"I'm excited for it."

"I'm-I'm excited to take you.")

to snowmen.

(She giggles and Mike looks back at her from where he's sticking a carrot into the round snowy face of the figure.

"He looks funny."

Mike laughs too.

"We should name him Hopper," he suggests.

She laughs even harder at that.)

He's explaining ice skating to her and how fun it is to glide across the ice when the snow begins to pick up, the wind blowing with more insistence and she shivers as the air grows even colder than it was.

"Do you want to head inside?" he asks and she shrugs, not wanting their day outside to be over so soon.

"Few more minutes?" she suggests and he nods, before gesturing to the lake in front of them.

"Do you want to try something like ice skating then? It won't be skating exactly, but the ice is probably thick enough for us to stand on it."

"Okay," she agrees and grips tightly to his hand as she follows him down to the edge of the frozen lake.

"Here, I'll go first to make sure it's safe," he tells her and she shakes her head.

"No, I can—"

"No, it's fine, really! I'll just—" He inches out onto the ice, sliding his feet along the surface and she frowns when his hand slips out of hers. He goes slow, balancing himself by holding his arms out. He's more than a few feet away from her when the wind begins to blow harder.

"Mike, I don't think you should keep going," she insists, but he shakes his head.

"It's okay, just a little farther," he calls back, his movements becoming more confident. The ice continues to support him and her fear begins to ebb as she tentatively places a foot on the frozen surface. It holds her weight and she moves to stand on it fully.

She's concentrating on her feet when it happens. The wind howls as it picks up out of nowhere, pushing forcefully against her and she gasps at the strength of it.

"Mike!" she calls and when she looks up, he's falling, crying out her name.

Time crawls to an agonizing halt as she watches his feet slip out from underneath him, the wind knocking him off balance and her heart jumps to her throat. The crack when he hits the ice is sickening and she screams as he falls through, his body crashing into the water.

Her feet begin to move before she has a chance to think about it, but the ice groans as she takes a step and she hurries back to solid ground, a sob bubbling up in her throat.

"Mike!" she screams again as he begins to flail, his gasping, broken breaths tearing through her soul.

"El! E-El, I c-can't—" he yells, and, with a whimper, she again moves to run to him, but his arm catches the ice in front of him, sending a crack that carves its way toward her feet and she yelps as she steps back up onto the solid ground.

The more he struggles, the more helpless she feels, inadequacy pressing hard on her chest and it feels like all she can do is cry out to him as the tears begin to roll down her cheeks. Her precious, perfect boy, he's drowning, the bitter cold sending spikes through his skin and God, please, if You're out there, please, please, please save him—

"E-El!" he screams again, his voice shattering and cracking. "Your p-powers—El, p-please—"

It's the last thing she hears from him before he goes under, his scream bubbling as his face disappears beneath the surface, his outstretched arms beginning to go limp. It's the most horrific thing she's ever seen and the ringing in her ears is sudden and sharp as her powers roar ferociously through her veins.

For a moment, her fear is so erratic that she can't latch onto anything, her mind zipping this way and that, searching desperately for the boy she loves beneath the surface.

She gasps as she feels her power brush against his legs and with a breath in, breath out, she wraps her mind around his waist and pulls.

Much to her relief, his body soars through the surface, dripping and shivering as she tugs him towards her. With a jerk that's a bit stronger than she intended, he shakily flies through the air and she grits her teeth as she fights for control, breathing steadily as she brings him closer.

She can see his teeth chattering when he's close enough and her heart sinks when she sees his hands are bare and tinged a grey-ish color.

"Mike!" she cries as she sets him down gently on the snow-covered ground, rushing to hold him when he's stable. She gathers him up in her arms and squeezes him tight, cradling his head against her shoulder. He's shaking and freezing, but he's alive.

"Are you okay?" she whimpers. "I'm so sorry, I should've-"

"El." His voice is a whisper and his body is growing heavier in her arms.

"Mike?"

"El…"

His eyes droop shut, his body goes limp and Michael Wheeler is unconscious.

The entire world must've heard her scream for Hopper.

-

The climb back to consciousness is a confusing one for Mike. He sees the lights first as his eyes blearily blink open. They're so bright and piercing that he shuts them again with a groan.

"Hey kid."

The voice is deep and gruff and he frowns.

"Chief?" he mutters, keeping his eyes shut.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me. Do you want me to see if I can turn the lights down for you?"

"Um...y-yeah, if you wouldn't mind." There's a beat as he hears shuffling, then the flicking of a switch and he senses the room grow darker. "Am I in a hospital?" he whispers, slowly opening his eyes again and he can see the outline of a big, burly man standing by his bedside.

"Yeah, you got pretty banged up from the fall. You remember what happened?"

The fall. He remembers falling. And there was a...a crash and some ice and cold, cold, cold, but then-

He gasps, something like fear dumping into his heart.

"Where's El? Is she okay? Did she get hurt?"

His voice must've been getting louder, because Hopper puts a finger to his lips, shushing him, and gestures to the corner of the room.

His gaze follows his pointed finger and the knots in his chest unravel when he sees his girl slumped and asleep in the corner chair.

"Is she okay?" he asks again, lowering his voice, and Hopper nods.

"She's just still tired after lifting you. She's refused to eat anything because she's been so worried about you, so she still hasn't gotten her strength back," he explains and the guilt that suddenly gnaws at his stomach is almost unbearable.

"I shouldn't have asked her to do that," he mumbles and the chief shakes his head.

"No, what you shouldn't have done was walk out onto the lake. That was so stupid, kid, what were you thinking?"

He shrugs. "I wanted El to be able to walk on it and I was making sure it was safe."

Hopper pinches the bridge of his nose, scrunching up his face.

"Did El say she wanted to walk on the ice?"

He swallows hard. "Well, no, not explicitly, but…"

"Mike?"

His inhale is sharp and he turns his head to see her awake and timidly walking over to him like she'd scare him if she got too close.

"I'm-I'm really sorry," she starts and he almost does a double-take.

"You're sorry?" he replies, incredulous. "El, what are you sorry for? I'm the idiot who thought it'd be a good idea to keep going."

He goes to reach for her hand, but halts the movement when his fingers twitch...and nothing happens.

"Why can't I feel my hands?"

"Like I said, you got pretty banged up," Hopper mutters and he gasps as he looks down to see both his hands wrapped in bandages, an IV attached to his left arm.

"You-you got frostbite," he hears El say, her voice shaky and small. Her eyes are welling up when he glances at her, hurting him more than her words do. "And a con-concu-" She furrows her brow and looks over at Hopper for help, her fingers beginning to fidget with one another.

"A concussion, kid, from where you broke through the ice with your head." He sees El nod sadly out of the corner of his eye and he goes to reassure her that he's alright, but Hopper isn't done. "And please tell me you didn't take off your gloves on purpose."

He shakes his head which, now that he thinks about it, is throbbing and the movement causes him to grit his teeth.

"They came off when I fell through because your hands are so big," he explains and Hopper huffs out a breath, conceding.

"Fair enough."

There's a pause where no one quite knows what to say as Mike lets it sink in how serious his injuries could have been had El not saved him because of his impulsive actions (again).

The girl is still hovering shyly by his bedside and he spares a glance up at her. She looks almost fearful when her eyes meet his.

"What's wrong?" he murmurs, lowering his voice and scooting a bit closer to her.

"I'm sorry, Mike," she responds in a whisper, the corner of her lips tugging down into a frown.

"El, I still don't know what you're apologizing for. You haven't done anything wrong."

She shakes her head. "I should've pulled you out sooner."

For a moment, he's dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open limply.

"What-El, no, you shouldn't be apologizing for that, for any of this," he says, gesturing the best he can to his injuries. "All of this is my fault. All of it. And I-"

He purses his lips together, glancing sheepishly at the chief and he somehow gets the hint.

"Alright, I'll let you kids have your time. Behave, understand?"

They both nod and he mutters something about how soft he's becoming as he exits the room, shutting the door behind him.

"El," he starts again, his stomach twisting and he doesn't quite meet her eyes. "I shouldn't have made you use your powers. I'm the one who should be sorry, so—I'm sorry. I know that doesn't make me any better than the bad men and no one, not even me, should be making you use your powers."

He lets out a shaky breath, guilt churning his stomach and she's quiet for a while. Just when he thinks she's never going to forgive him, he sees her moving and he looks up at her as she slowly kneels by his bedside.

"Mike," she whispers, her bottom lip quivering.

"You could've died." The end of her sentence is chopped up by a sob and he curses his hands for not being able to reach out and comfort her.

"Would've been better than forcing you to use your powers."

The outrage on her face is so strong that, for a moment, he thinks she's going to slap him.

"Mike!"

He hangs his head. "Sorry, I know that's extreme. But I mean it, your abilities aren't a thing to be—"

She shows no indication that she's listening as she rises to sit on his bed by where his arm lays uselessly. Pressing a finger to his lips, she cuts off his words, and his breath hitches as her fingertips skim across his face, brushing his cheekbones, his temples, his jawline, his lips again. She's looking at him so intensely, so reverently that his heart stutters.

"I don't want you to die," she whispers. "Don't be sorry for anything you did, I wish I would've saved you earlier. I was just so scared and—and surprised, but in a bad way."

"Shocked?"

She nods, her fingers dropping from his face, coming to rest on his arm instead.

"Shocked," she repeats. "It almost felt like I couldn't move, I was so afraid you'd—"

She doesn't finish her sentence and she doesn't have to.

"I understand, El," he murmurs.

"What if we both stop being sorry?" she says after a moment.

"What?"

"If you shouldn't be sorry and I shouldn't be sorry…"

He smiles softly. "Then we'll just stop being sorry. I like it."

She nods shyly before she leans in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"I'm happy you're okay, Mike," she whispers as she pulls back and he can feel the blood rush to his cheeks.

"I'm happy you're okay too, El."

Mike's recovery is a slow one. Once he's released from the hospital the next day, it's doctor's orders that he take it easy for the next couple of weeks.

El comes down with a cold the next day as well, the exposure to temperatures lower than she'd ever experienced causing her body to react negatively.

Needless to say, it's a few days before they can see each other again and, even then, they spend their time with Mike's head in El's lap, her fingers gently playing with his hair as they watch the sitcoms that she adores in his basement. A perfect way to spend the afternoon, in their opinions. They don't speak of the fiasco from a couple of days prior until they're crawling into the blanket fort together to take a nap when Mike gets a headache from staring at the tv screen for too long.

"Mike?"

"Mmhm?"

"I don't think I like the cold."

He smiles as he lays down, sleepily reaching over to squeeze her hand.

"Then I promise to always keep you warm."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> June's one shot was posted separately from this book since the themes were on the more mature side. You're welcome to check it out if you haven't already!
> 
> I hope you all are safe and well :)


	14. Summer (Post-S2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day before El officially becomes a high school student, the Party makes the most of their final summer day and Mike makes the day as special as he can for his girl.

“El.” 

“El.” 

Poke. 

“Eleven.” 

Poke poke. 

“El. Wake up.” 

...

”El?” 

He grins and rolls his eyes. 

“El,” he whispers softer and leans forward to tenderly kiss her cheek. 

“Elllll,” he singsongs, kissing her forehead. 

“Eleven.” 

“El, wake up cutie.” Kiss.

“Mmmmm, what time izit?” 

“Time for you to open your eyes.” Kiss. 

“But if I do, you’ll stop doing this,” she sighs, scooting closer to him in the bed. 

He sighs and presses a soft kiss to her lips. 

“Mmm, good mornin',” she mumbles. 

“Good morning, you sleep well?”

She nods, her eyes opening just a crack. 

“Good. Well, I’ve got breakfast for us when you’re ready, okay?” 

“Mmmph.” She rolls onto her side and stretches out her arms. 

“You want me to carry you to breakfast?” 

He’s joking. He knows what she wants. 

Her lips curl up in a smile and she shakes her head, her eyes still not fully open, her arms still outstretched. 

“Miiiiiike,” she whines. 

“Okay, but only for a little bit, alright?” 

“Mmhm,” she hums as he lifts the edge of her blanket and crawls in next to her. His arms go around her waist and he pulls her against him, flipping onto his back in the same motion so at least half of her lands on top of him. She cuddles into him like he’s a teddy bear and he holds her close, breathing her in as her body relaxes. 

Today is the last day of their summer vacation and they plan on spending it like most of their summer days have been, although now, it’s about soaking every last second in before they’re swept back into the whirlwind of high school. 

For El, today is the last day ever that she’s not an enrolled student. Tomorrow, she’ll join the rest of the Hawkins teenage population in school, a place she’s only heard stories of from her friends. 

This was huge. She’d studied with the people who knew her best for a year, desperate to be able to go where kids her age go during the day and all her hard work paid off because she now knew and understood enough to be a sophomore along with her friends. And while she won’t have a full schedule just to help her ease into it, this was still a very big deal for the girl who had been out in the real world for a little less than three years. 

Neither of them are thinking about that, however, as El nuzzles her head into his chest and he smiles at how warm and relaxed she is. His hand is tracing tiny circles on her back while the other keeps her in place and he couldn’t be happier. He feels himself getting sleepy as sunlight begins to lighten the room, comfortable with El laying on top of him. 

Everything starts to get fuzzy and deliciously swimmy as he fades from consciousness, clutching El to him until he realizes with a start that they have plans today. While their schedule is structured to allow them time to laze about, they still have to meet their friends in an hour. Reluctantly, he nudges the girl snuggled up to him. 

“Ready for breakfast?” he asks, keeping his voice low and soft. She stirs and lets out a big yawn before slowly opening her eyes and looking up at him. A warm glow spreads throughout him as he takes in El’s deep, rich eyes blinking up at him as she adjusts to the light. He goes to sit up, but before he can, she shifts and kisses his lips gently. 

“Good morning,” she mumbles and he responds by pressing his lips against her cheek. “Breakfast?” 

“Okay,” he whispers and it takes everything in him to pull away from her and let her sit up. He stands to his feet, stretching before saying, “I’m gonna go make sure it’s still okay,” and she nods, letting him go as she reaches for the brush on her dresser. 

Mike smiles when he sees the Eggos he’d laid out on the table previously still look the way he wanted them to. His stack isn't anything special, save for the obscene amount of syrup drizzled over it, but hers is a work of art, if he does say so himself. Knowing she also likes them stacked, he had glued each waffle together with whipped cream. “El” is spelled out in blueberries on the top and the strawberries he had cut form a heart around the base. He can't wait for her to see it. 

After opening the curtains to let in the morning light, he takes a seat and waits for her to finish getting ready, a routine he’s never really understood because she looks pretty always. A few minutes later, her door opens and he smiles at how radiant she looks as she blushes under his gaze. 

It takes a second for her eyes to land on her breakfast, but when they do, her face lights up and she dashes to his side, planting a kiss on his cheek. 

"You made those for me?"

He chuckles. "I mean, unless there's another El around here, I'm pretty sure those are all yours." 

She giggles as she plops down into her seat and they dig into their breakfast, a comfortable silence settling between them as they listen to the birds chirping outside and try to steal glances at the other when they aren’t looking. 

Eggos taste so much better when he’s with her and watching her enjoy the food he’s responsible for getting her hooked on. At the rate she’s devouring them, they finish quickly, and Mike offers to do the dishes so she can get her shoes on and grab whatever she needs for the day. 

He meets her outside by his bike when she’s ready and goes to stabilize it, intending for her to get on the back, but she hesitates. 

“Mike?” she asks, looking up at him. 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I pedal today?” 

He raises his eyebrows and looks down at the bike. “Sure, if you want. You remember how?” he asks, making sure she feels safe. She nods and swings her leg over the seat. 

“I want to practice...is that okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course! Just let me know if you get tired, okay? The arcade is pretty far from here,” he tells her as he climbs on behind her. Once again, she nods, only half listening as she focuses on putting her hands and her feet in the right place. 

He tries to ignore the way his stomach flips when he wraps his arms around her waist and when she glances behind her to make sure he’s secure, her face is painted with the same blush that he’s sure is covering his. 

It takes her a few minutes to get used to having extra weight on the back as she pedals up the dirt road, but he's patient and she gets the hang of it by the time they reach the pavement. He feels her relax as she gets into a rhythm and he settles his chin on her shoulder as the breeze flutters around them. 

He’s proud of her when she makes it to the arcade without taking a break and he tells her so when they pull up in the parking lot. She smiles and bows her head shyly before she slips her fingers through his. Hand in hand, they walk inside to find their friends waiting for them, chattering excitedly about the games they wanted to play that day. 

The arcade turns out to be a blast, even though they’d been there more times than he can count. Since it's the end of summer, none of them have a reason to hold onto their loose change so today, they were free to play as many games as they wanted to. They hadn’t had this much freedom since the time Hopper wanted them all out of the cabin and handed over all the coins he could find just so he would have some peace for once. They spent the entire afternoon running around, challenging one another to epic battles (Dustin and Lucas), trying over and over again to beat their previously set high scores (Max), discovering new games they’d never touched (El and Will) and cheering their friends on wherever they happened to be playing (Mike). 

Right before the building shut down, they begged the manager to let them play one last round of pinball to close out the summer and he agreed with a sigh. 

With a cheer, they rushed over to the two machines in the corner and devised a system. Two people would play and the person with the lowest score would be replaced with someone else while the winner stayed. To be declared the winner, someone had to beat not one, not two, but all five of the other party members. 

It ended up taking them longer than they thought, but they didn’t care.   
After a solid hour of playing, the showdown had arrived. Dustin managed to pull ahead and had beaten every one of his friends...except one. 

“Screw you, Dustin,” Lucas mutters when he looks up, shaking his head upon seeing his friend has beaten him fair and square. Dustin laughs and jerks his head, motioning for his friend to leave his place at the machine. 

“Alright, this is it!” Will says excitedly as Dustin turns to face the Party. “The Final Showdown!” he calls. “El, are you ready?” 

Dustin had beaten Max. And Will. And Mike. And Lucas. One remained and she intended to take him down. 

“Are you?” she says, taking her place at the machine and quirking an eyebrow as her friends laugh behind her. She feels a familiar hand fall on her waist as she grasps the lever and a pair of lips presses against her cheek. 

“For luck,” Mike whispers in her ear. Grinning up at him, she exhales heavily and turns her attention to the machine. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here to witness the last battle between El Hopper and Dustin Henderson!” Will’s voice comes from behind them. The two slip their coins into their machines and they whir to life once again. As the ball is dispensed into the spot and the lights flash on, Dustin looks over at El and shoots her his signature purr, displaying all his teeth menacingly. 

“Mouthbreather,” she responds with a smirk and he chuckles.

“On your mark!” She grips the lever. “Get set!” They both pull it back and wait. 

“And!” 

“Come on Will!” Dustin says, his face also a mask of concentration. 

“....GO!” their friend cries and she lets the lever go, watching as the ball shoots up into the maze of tunnels and contraptions. 

Her focus quickly hones in as she hits the buttons on the side right when she needs to, keeping her eye on the ball the whole time as it bounces around sporadically. Behind them, their friends are silent, an odd contrast to the usual cacophony of cheers and banter. They’re all watching with rapt attention, holding their breaths, not daring to move as they watch their friends expertly keep the ball alive. 

It’s intense, to say the least, and it’s clear why these two deserved to be battling each other for the final title. They’re racking up points faster than they can count, bells and sound effects going off constantly. It takes a while for the ball to finally fall down the hole, consequently ending the game, but when it eventually happens...

Their gazes all turn up to the scoreboards. El’s machine reads “15,385,400” and Dustin’s “15,079,275”. 

Silence. And then...

“YEAAAAAH EL!” 

“WOOOO YOU DID IT!” 

“HA, I KNEW SHE WOULD WIN!” 

“IN YOUR FACE, DUSTIN!” 

She laughs in disbelief, staring up at her score as their friends celebrate around them. Dustin’s mouth is hanging open when she glances over at him and he looks defeated. She smiles and wraps him in a hug, apologizing for stealing his title from him. He chuckles and congratulates her, even offering to pay for her ice cream as a reward, to which she politely declines, saying Mike has her covered.

She’s met with hugs and high fives when she turns back to her friends and Mike even picks her up, spinning her in a circle as she giggles, high off adrenaline. When they finally make it out of the arcade in high spirits, she hops on the back of his bike and they head off to the mall, excited to see Steve and tell him what just went down. 

“I can’t believe you’re better at pinball than me,” Mike says, shaking his head as they coast behind their friends. She chuckles and rests her head against his back. 

“You’re the one who taught me to play,” she points out, remembering the day she was first allowed to go to the arcade and they’d started with pinball. He'd said it was because it was the easiest to play, but really, he just wanted an excuse to put his hands over hers. 

“You’re right. I never thought I’d see the day an apprentice takes down his own master,” he replies and she can hear the smile on his voice. When they reach the mall, something occurs to her.

“Darth Vader and Obi-Wan!” she says excitedly and her friends all look at her. 

“What about them, El?” Lucas says as they dodge rowdy groups of teenagers and pairs of moms who look like they’ve been to every store in the building. 

“Master and apprentice,” she says simply, looking to Mike, hoping he’ll make the connection between their previous conversation and one of his favorite movies. 

“Oh! I understand!” he exclaims, flashing her a smile before sheepishly explaining the situation to everyone else. 

The analogy is found quite ingenious by the Party and they talk over one another as they build and expand on it, pointing out that Obi-Wan did claim he’d come back more powerful once he was struck down, much to Mike’s amusement.

Needless to say, Steve is very confused when the gang shows up at Scoops Ahoy going on and on about El being like Darth Vader and the rest of them accidentally creating a Sith Lord, but he doesn’t even bother asking, knowing they probably would never shut up. 

“What do you nerds want?”, he greets them, which diverts their attention quickly.

“What do you want today, El?” Mike asks her as they take in all the flavors the store has in stock this week and she can already feel her stomach growling. 

“Chocolate,” she responds instantly. Sometimes it’s cotton candy, sometimes it’s something fruity, but today, she’s feeling something richer. 

He chuckles and turns to Steve. “We’ll take the Triple Fudge in a cup,” he orders, and their friend behind their counter smirks as he opens the glass cover. 

“A scoop for you and a scoop for the lady?” he asks, throwing El a wink. She smiles back at him and nods, while Mike’s face turns a bright red. 

“We always share, Steve,” he says in irritation as he pulls out his wallet to pay for their dessert. 

“Yeah, and you always disgustingly cute about it," Harrington retorts as he rings him up. Apparently, everyone else had been listening, because Dustin chimes in with, “Thank you, I’m glad someone agrees!” 

“Dustin, you know when you get a girlfriend, you’re gonna regret all the times you’ve teased us, right?” Mike tells him as they exit the mall and head for the bikes. 

“Well, the joke’s on you Wheeler, because I’m never getting a girlfriend, so I doubt you’ll ever be able to return the favor.” Despite the grin on Dustin’s face as he announces his relationship status, the hint of sadness behind his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed and El suspects that he isn’t as enthusiastic about his predicament as he might seem. 

“You’ll find her one day, Dustin,” she says to him, flashing a smile. He visibly softens at her words and she pats him on the back. 

“Thanks, El,” he mumbles, and they leave it at that. 

Not wanting their day to be over so soon, Mike and El bid their friends farewell as one by one, they hop on their bikes and ride home. Soon, it’s just the two of them and their ice cream. 

“Want to go to the park?” Mike asks, handing the cup to her and she nods, taking a bite as he links their arms. 

They stroll down the path into their city park, smiling at the kids climbing on the playground. 

“Isn’t it weird to think that at this time tomorrow, none of these kids will be here? They’ll all be in a classroom, wishing they were back here,” Mike comments as he leads them to a more quiet area. 

At the mention of school, El feels her mood shift and she nods in reply. It is weird to think about and it’s weird to think that she’ll be one of them. She can’t decide if that excites her or terrifies her. 

Mike must’ve sensed her demeanor change because he disposes of their empty ice cream cup and pulls her down with him onto the grass under the shade of the trees. They lay on their backs, scooting so their shoulders are touching and they can hold hands as they stare up at leaves. 

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks quietly when she’s been silent for a while. She tosses his question around in her mind and he waits patiently before she finally speaks. 

“Mike, do you think I’m ready?” 

“For tomorrow?” 

She nods. 

“Yeah, I do,” he responds without a shred of hesitation and she sighs, his confidence taking the edge off her uneasiness. “Do you?” he asks after a moment’s pause. 

“I hope so,” she says barely above a whisper and he tenderly squeezes her hand. 

“You are. I know you are,” he replies definitively. “I promise you’re smart enough.” His words make her smile, but it’s not just the classroom she’s worried about. What's making her more anxious than anything is it won’t just be the Party that she’ll be around. 

“Do you think they’ll like me?” Her voice shakes just the tiniest bit. 

“El, there isn’t anything about you that people wouldn’t like,” he says softly, propping himself up on an elbow so he can look at her and she does the same. “I don’t want to say that everyone will like you because, you know, some kids are mouth breathers.” 

She winces at that, knowing she’d have to deal with bullies and she was not looking forward to doing it without her powers. 

“But hey, look at me.” His earnest voice catches her attention and she looks back into his eyes. “I will not let anyone say or do anything mean to you. I won’t stand for it. I don’t even know why they would, because if they can’t see how amazing you are, then, El, they aren’t seeing you at all. I won’t let them hurt you, okay?” 

“Okay,” she murmurs as he skims his fingertips up and down her arm, a reassurance that he’s there and he won’t leave her alone. 

She's still nervous. She's still worried about what they would think and how she would interact with them. However, the love Mike held for her and the promise that he’d be by her side was much more powerful than her fears. With those two things, she was invincible. She could conquer the entire world. 

Or, at least, her first day of high school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Students, I wish you the very best, whether you're online or in-person! Stay strong!


	15. Astraphobia (Post-S3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El hates thunderstorms, but it's a good thing Mike excels in taking care of his girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Uh...hi. It's been *checks watch* way too long. Y'all, quarantined college is hard.
> 
> CoolDeeDee on ff.net requested Mike comforting a scared El and I hope this does it well! This is short but sweet - it made me smile and I hope it makes you smile too.

Mike’s heart is pounding as he walks up the steps to the Byers residence, his hand clutching a small piece of paper the size of a playing card. He blows out a breath before he knocks a familiar rhythm against the family’s front door. 

_Knock knock. _

_Knock. _

_Knock knock knock. _

“I’ll get it!” a muffled voice yells inside and he smiles as he hears padded feet rushing to the door. He hides the paper behind his back as the door swings open. His girl stands on the other side, breathless and beaming. 

“Guess what?” 

Her brow raises expectantly as she takes a step out of the house to stand in front of him. “What?” 

“I passed.” 

She gasps as he proudly shows her his temporary driver’s license. With a squeal of excitement, she throws her arms around him and he grins as he catches her, pulling her close.

“I’m so proud of you,” she murmurs in his ear and he squeezes her tightly. 

“Thanks,” he says, pulling back to see her. “So, where would you like to go first?” 

Her eyebrows raise and she blinks a few times before her eyes dart behind him where she spots the station wagon he’d parked in their driveway. 

“That’s yours?” she asks, looking up at him in surprise and he nods. 

“My dad surprised me with it this morning and the first thing I want to do is take you somewhere special.”

Her face lights up as he pulls the keys out of his back pocket. 

“So, where to first?” 

Her eyes are shining as she stands on her tiptoes to press her lips to the corner of his mouth and he dips his head to rest his forehead against hers. 

“Somewhere quiet,” she murmurs. “Where we can be alone with no one to bother us.”

“Deal.” 

She grins as he nudges his nose with hers before she presses a hand to his chest. 

“Let me go ask my parents,” she says and grabs a hold of his hand, tugging him back into the house with her. 

Hopper’s at the dining room table bent over a book, his glasses at the edge of his nose. 

(He’d gotten those glasses about a month ago and one night, El had swiped them off of his dresser while him and El were in the house alone. She’d begged him to try them on, which he did with a sigh. They blurred his vision, but it was worth it when she slipped them off of him with a smile.

“I knew it,” she’d said. “You would look cute with glasses.”)

“Dad?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Can I go for a drive with Mike in his new car?” 

Hopper peers at them over his glasses. 

“When did you get your license?”

Mike clears his throat. “Um...today.” 

“So that means it’s illegal for you to drive anyone for six months.” 

Mike’s stomach twists and he opens his mouth to retort, but El beats him to it.

“He’ll be careful, Dad, we won’t get caught. And besides, we’re just going out of town, there won’t be a lot of people around.” 

“It’s still illegal,” Hopper says, his gaze pointed. “You’re talking about breaking the law to the chief of police.”

“But you’re retired, sir,” Mike cuts in. “Technically, you can’t arrest us.” 

“Daddy, please,” El begs and he can feel the puppy eyes she’s giving the man. “We won’t get caught, promise.” 

He sighs, taking his glasses off and setting them off to the side. 

“You will not get in a crash,” he starts, his eyes closed as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You will stay away from people as much as you can. And for the love of God, you will not get caught by Callahan, you hear me?” 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” El cries, rushing around the table to wrap him in a hug. 

“Uh-huh,” he grumbles. “And Wheeler, have her home by midnight.”

“Yes sir,” Mike replies with a grin, reaching out a hand to his girlfriend when she returns to him and she laces their fingers together. 

“See you tonight, Dad!” El calls as they make their way out of the house and he closes the door behind him. 

“So, you want to go out of town?” he asks as they walk towards his car and she nods. 

“We could go sit by the river? The one at the edge of the woods?” she suggests. 

“Perfect,” he declares as he unlocks the driver’s side, reaching over to unlock her door as soon as he gets in. “You want to get dinner?”

“Yes, please,” she says as she slides in and her eyes light up as she takes in the interior of the car. “This is nice.”

He smiles, his heart leaping at the sight of her in the seat next to him. 

“I’m, um--I’m really excited to finally be able to take you places,” he murmurs as he sticks the keys in the ignition.

“I’m excited to go places with you,” she replies, leaning over to kiss his cheek before she puts on her seatbelt and he pulls on his before he turns the keys and backs out of her driveway. 

After a pit stop at their favorite fast food place, they find themselves walking through the densest part of the woods, following the sound of rushing water. El carries a blanket under her arm, which she spreads out on the forest floor once they reach the slope of the river bank and Mike hands her burger and fries over once she's settled. 

Their evening is wonderful. The conversation is lazy and easy as they eat their burgers, watching the water ripple over the rocks. They cover everything from his driver’s test to El’s struggles with her biology lab to determining which movies make them cry the hardest. 

She’s cooing over his admittance that he sobbed at _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ as a kid because he identified too much with Rudolph when something wet lands on her forehead. She frowns and glances up at the sky to see that the clouds have grown dark and thick. Next to her, Mike flinches, and a second raindrop splats on her arm. 

“Do you think we should--”

He’s cut off as the pitter-patter grows heavier and she nods quickly, scurrying to gather their things as the rain begins to soak through their clothes. He pulls her to her feet once they have everything and he grins down at her. 

“Race you to the car?”

She takes off running in reply, laughing at his cry of indignation.

“Oh, it’s on!” she hears and she giggles as she weaves between the trees, his pounding footsteps close behind. 

He catches up to her when they reach the road and he presses a messy, out-of-breath kiss to her cheek before he dashes over the driver’s side, unlocking it hastily. They both tumble into the car, their clothes soaking the seats and they quickly pull their doors closed. 

They’re both shivering as Mike jams his keys in the ignition and fumbles at the dials on the dashboard, turning the heat on at full blast. For a moment, they’re still, panting as the adrenaline of their sudden escape wears off and when they finally glance at each other, she finds herself giggling at the way his hair is hanging in his eyes.

He grins, his eyebrows quirked up. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Yes,” she replies and leans over to brush his dampened hair away from his face. He lets her meddle with it, although when she moves away, he shakes his head like a dog, his hair flopping this way and that and she squeals as the droplets hit her skin. 

“Mike!” she chides and he laughs. 

“Here,” he says, reaching behind the driver’s seat and pulling out a bag. “My mom insisted that I have stuff for an emergency with me at all times.” He rummages through until he finds a blanket, tossing it to her. “And I’m pretty sure this is an emergency,” he teases her and she hums appreciatively as she wraps the thick material around herself. 

She burrows further into it as Mike puts the car in drive and pulls onto the road, carefully turning around so they were headed back to Hawkins. 

The rain is steady for a few minutes, the windshield wipers doing their part to keep the glass clear. They’re quiet, the coziness of the car and the thrill of their date, of being able to go _anywhere_ now together, wrapping them in contentment. 

They’re ten minutes from the Hawkins city limit when a vein of light whips through the sky. Her eyes grow wide and her heart goes still in the impossible seconds before the drum roll of thunder booms and she squeaks, the sound shaking her breath. 

“Shoot,” Mike mumbles and reaches out a hand to her. She grabs it and holds on tight as she makes herself smaller in the blanket. 

There isn’t one concrete reason why El is still terrified of thunder. It could be any number of things--perhaps it’s the association of loud noises with gunshots, explosions, lab machinery, horrific dangers coming for her. Maybe it’s the reminder of the night she escaped, the fear that they would find her and never let her out again. Maybe it’s the lack of control over the big, scary, monstrous force. Or maybe it’s everything at once. 

“There’s another one,” Mike says, squeezing her hand as lightning strikes off to their left and she inhales sharply, tensing every muscle in her body before the inevitable crack of thunder. 

This one is louder, heavier and she bites her lip to keep from screaming. Her heartbeat is erratic and Mike’s thumb is tracing circles on the back of her hand. She pulls her comfort from it and the shock is just starting to die down when the rain picks up. 

The intensity of it makes Mike gasp and he has to pull his hand back to keep both hands on the wheel as the drops begin to slap thick and unyielding against the windshield. 

“Holy hell,” he mutters, flipping the windshield wipers to their top speed and she whimpers, the chaos sucking the breath from her lungs as she shrinks into herself. 

The next clap of thunder makes it worse and she squirms from the intensity of the fear that pricks her skin. 

“Mike,” she whines.

“I know, I know,” he responds through gritted teeth, his hands clenching the steering wheel. 

The water is beginning to run in little rivers along the sides of the road where it dips, the tires sending out waves when they drive through a puddle and it’s all very sudden when a bolt of lightning strikes close enough that the pounding thunder rolls in only a few moments after the flash and she screams as it rattles in her chest. In the same instant, the car begins to skid, the tires tilting too far to the left on the bend of the road, and Mike inhales sharply, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist on instinct. 

“I’m pulling over,” he mutters, slowing the car enough to right it again before he carefully guides them off the road. He tucks the car between a gap in the trees and throws the gear into park, yanking the keys out of the ignition. 

She scrambles for him, unclicking her seatbelt and he meets her in the middle of the bench seat, gathering her up in his arms as she presses her face to his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.

“Hey hey hey, you’re safe. I know it’s loud and scary, but I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs in her ear as he holds her tight. She trembles, maybe from the cold or his voice or the lightning strike, but Mike feels it regardless and reaches with one hand to the backseat where an extra blanket lies untouched. He hastily drapes it around her shoulders and the fabric is thick and warm against her skin. His arms wrap around her once more, situating her so she’s curled against him. 

She grits her teeth through every thunderclap, squeezes her eyes shut with each howling gust of wind, and his hands are tracing up and down her back, but it’s so _loud_, the rain pounding on all sides of the car as if it’s desperate to break through and hurt them. 

“M-Mike,” she stutters out. 

“I know, I know, I’m here, El.” 

It works for the three seconds she can hear his voice, before her muscles tense again and if it wasn’t for the pressure of his arms around her, she would’ve drowned by now. 

“Mike,” she whines. "Words?" 

It's nonsensical and he’s quiet for a moment and it’s enough to convince her that she’d dreamt that he existed. 

“Mike?” she whimpers as she lifts her head to see he’s flushed a bright red. 

(He’s still there.)

“Sorry, um...what if I sang to you?”

Her lips quirk up into a hint of a smile. 

“Okay,” she whispers and snuggles back into his chest. She feels him take a breath. 

“_Ooo, you make me live_. 

_Whatever this world can give to me,_

_It’s you, you’re all I see._

_Ooo, you make me live now, honey._

_Ooo, you make me live._” 

He rocks her gently to the beat as if they’re dancing and she sighs, her hands unclenching at the same time her heart does. His voice is low, warm, and perfect and it’s saving her. If his voice was a place, she would never leave. 

She parts her lips to join him in the chorus. 

“_You’re the best friend that I’ve ever had_. 

_I’ve been with you such a long time._

_You’re my sunshine _

_And I want you to know that my feelings are true. _

_I really love you.” _

He presses his lips to the crown of her head. 

“You’re my best friend,” he whispers. 

She smiles, her breath hitching as her eyes water. 

“-m in love with you,” she murmurs. 

“I’m in love with you too, El.” 

He holds her for a while longer as the last threads of fear unravel themselves from her bones until she’s sinking in clouds of contentment. Around them, the storm gives up its fight, dropping its weapons until there’s nothing but the whisper of rain left. 

“What if we just stayed here?” Mike mumbles against her hair. 

“Mmm.” 

Eventually, the clock on the dashboard will click to midnight and she’ll whisper something about a curfew. He’ll groan in protest, but let her crawl out of his arms anyway and she rests her head on his shoulder as he drives them back into town. 

A year later, she receives a record player from her parents for her eighteenth birthday and the last record in the stack is Queen’s “You’re My Best Friend”. A message is scrawled on the upper right-hand corner of the cover. 

“For the storms,” it says. 

“Love, Mike.” 


	17. Thank You (Post-S2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike and El's story is intense, improbable, and wonderful. When El comes across the outfit Mike had given her the night he found her, they wrestle with the devastating what-could-have-been's of their story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Mileven Day!

El hadn’t planned on being soaked when she walked into the Wheeler house that Friday afternoon, but she couldn’t care less as she and the boy she loves stumble through his front door, giggling at their antics during the walk over. 

They weren't expecting it to rain during their trek from Dustin’s to Mike’s, but she pulled out the umbrella she had in her backpack the second she felt a raindrop and Mike had quickly joined her underneath it as the spring shower descended upon Hawkins. They strolled arm in arm in comfortable silence, enjoying the sound of the soft rain around them, when she noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“What’re you thinking?” she inquires, squinting up at him. He’s plotting something and while she should be worried, she’s curious.

“Do you trust me?” he asks with a grin and she squeezes his arm where she’s holding on to him. 

“Always,” she replies, softening at the way his face lights up before he rearranges his features to look innocent. 

“Good,” he says casually and continues walking with her as if he had said nothing. She watches him carefully, but after a few minutes, she lets it go, figuring he’s planning something for later. 

This turns out to be a mistake because as soon as she stops watching him, he tugs them closer to the sidewalk where the rainwater is running by the curb. She frowns as they approach the flowing water, opening her mouth to warn him, when suddenly, he jumps and lands in the stream, splashing them both. 

“Mike!” she shrieks, the water seeping through her clothes.

He grins. "Oops." 

She kicks at the stream without a second thought, sending a wave towards him, throwing back her head as she laughsat the look on her face. Suddenly, they’re chasing each other down the street, jumping into every puddle they find and soaking the other. The umbrella comes down quickly and is hastily shoved into El’s backpack, leaving them exposed to the falling rain, but she doesn't care as she dodges a splash Mike sends her way with a giggle, stomping in the next puddle to get her revenge. 

They’re drenched by the time they get to Mike’s house, but she’s filled with joy and laughter and Mike hasn't stopped grinning since he splashed her first. 

“Mom, we’re home! Could you bring us some towels, please?” he hollers into the house as they stand in the entryway, kicking off their wet shoes and Mike reaches over to help her out of her raincoat, hanging it up to dry. 

“Of course honey, why...” Her response trails off as she rounds the corner and sees the two of them standing there sheepishly. “Oh, you’re soaked! Stay there,” she exclaims and rushes upstairs. 

“This is your fault,” El teases once she’s gone, nudging his shoulder and he chuckles. 

“Hey, I never heard you protesting,” he tells her, taking a step closer. 

“I had fun,” she tells him softly. “I’ve missed the rain.” 

“I’ve missed _you_,” he responds and she hums, lifting her chin as he lowers his lips to hers, kissing her once, twice before Karen comes flying back down the stairs. 

“Here, dry yourselves off,” she tells them, handing them both a towel. “And Eleanor, here’s some dry clothes, feel free to change in the basement.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler,” she says, taking the clothes and turning to Mike. “Meet you down there?” 

“Yeah, sure. We can watch a movie or something,” he responds and she reaches out to squeeze his hand before she heads for the basement door. 

It’s when she’s in the bathroom that she notices the clothes Mrs. Wheeler had handed her. 

She gasps as she unrolls the navy blue sweater and the gray sweatpants, her throat constricting at the sight of them. She hasn’t seen these since '83 and it’s startling to be thrown back to the time when a young boy gave her her first comfortable pair of clothes ever. With a sigh, she tugs her top off and pulls the sweatshirt on, musing over how sweet it was that he had kept this outfit lying around. 

It shocks her how familiar the shirt feels. She’d worn it for less than three days and yet, slipping it on and the delicate softness that surrounds her in his scent seems so _right_ like she should always be wearing this. Numbly, she pulls on the gray fleece sweatpants, amused at the way they barely reach her ankle. 

Amusement turns to an emotion that pricks her eyes with tears and she finds herself overwhelmed. She has _grown_. 

When she stands up, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror and the small part of her that was expecting to see a scared, naive child with a shaved head reels. The person looking back at her is not scared or lost or hopeless. 

She’s strong. Independent. 

Beautiful. 

She’s weeping before she thinks to stop it, tears pouring down her cheeks as she remembers the person she used to be, the person who clung to these clothes like they were the only thing in the world that wouldn’t hurt her. Knowing she could've still been that fragile, wide-eyed girl is frightening and she grips the edges of the sink abruptly with a gasp, praying this life she'd wasn’t a grand illusion that would end in an instant.

How had she gone from being worthless to a happy, carefree adolescent with a life she adored, one with a family, friends, a home and...

“Hey, El? I was thinking we could...”

...Mike. 

His head pokes through the crack in the doorway, his sentence dying off as he catches sight of her and she shoves down a sob at the way his face softens, his eyes all tender and warm.

She bites her lip as he comes to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a soft kiss underneath her ear. He looks back up, meeting her gaze in the mirror and she sinks back into his arms when she sees in his misty eyes that he’s as affected as she is. 

For an infinite moment, there are no words, memories tangible in the air around them. She breaks the spell first.

“Why did you save me?”

He blinks, his brow creasing before he answers her. “Why wouldn’t I have saved you?” 

“Mike, you brought a kid you didn't know into your house. What were you _thinking_?” she asks indignantly. 

He shakes his head, squeezing her tighter. “I wasn’t. It never crossed my mind that it wasn’t a good idea. You just...” he stalls, searching for his next words and she turns in his arms so she can face him, linking her fingers behind his neck.

“It’s just always felt like we’re connected, you know?” he says, his tone soft. “I couldn’t explain it, but it felt like you were supposed to come with me. There was something about your eyes that pulled me in, I guess. I could tell you were scared and lost. I saw strength and kindness in them too, though.” He skims a thumb across her cheek, wiping away her tears and she shivers. “They were beautiful,” he whispers. 

She ducks her head, something inside her glowing. A pair of lips presses against her forehead and her smile grows wide.

“They _were_ beautiful?” she teases him as she raises her head, reaching down to link their fingers together and heading for the door. 

"Yeah. They're kind of average now, though," he teases and she laughs, squirming away as his fingers tickle her side. 

"I'm kidding," he murmurs as she tugs him into the blanket fort. "I adore your eyes." 

"I know," she responds as they get situated, sitting shoulder to shoulder against the wall and he tugs the fabric down over the entrance before he wraps his arm around her. It's quiet for a moment as he traces gentle circles on her arm. 

“You’re right, though,” she starts, leaning into him and his temple rests against her head. “I _was_ scared and lost that night. Did you know I’d never been out in the rain before?” He shakes his head against her hair. “It was so cold. I’d _never_ been so cold.” 

Not even the bath had frozen her as much as the storm had that night. They had kept the lab warm and her showers had always been hot and steamy, so the shock of the drops that pelted her skin was almost enough to make her run back to Benny’s. 

That would’ve been suicide. So, drenched, shivering, and frightened, she ran and ran and ran until she heard voices that caused her to stop in her tracks. She inched closer until suddenly she was standing in a beam of light and their story began. 

“I was miserable,” she whispers as the bitingly cold memory fades. “I thought I’d never be warm or happy again. And then...” She trails off, looking up at him.

How much does he know? How well does he understand what he did that night? Does his brilliant humble mind know what he did? Has she ever bothered to thank him?

Has she _ever_ properly thanked him?

Hysteria rises in her and she can’t stop the tears that slip down her cheeks. Mike is pulling her closer, murmuring her name as if he’s done it a million times before, because he has, and can’t he see how impossibly caring he is and the life his heart of his built for her? 

“Mike,” she sobs as she crumples against him. Dimly, she hears, “El, you’re okay, please talk to me,” so she does.

“Mike, you could’ve l-left me there. You could’ve moved on, y-you _should’ve_ moved on and kept looking for W-Will. You were out there for _him_, why would you--" Her breath stutters as she whimpers. "And I think I would’ve gone b-back. I would've gone back and they would’ve found me and...” 

"El." Her name is a puff of air against the crown of her head.

“And I n-never would’ve known what an Eggo was or what it’s like to have hair or how soft these clothes are or wh-what the stars look like. I wouldn’t be able to talk like this or write or know what a movie is.” She sucks in a shuddering breath and he squeezes her tighter, nearly pulling her into his lap. 

“And I’d never get to be held like this o-or kissed or tucked in at n-night or hold someone’s hand.” His hand wraps around hers firmly, resting it against his chest. “I never would’ve had a friend. Or a f-family. Or a happy life. Or a h-home. She raises her head to find his eyes brimming with tears. “You were stupid enough to bring me back here and n-nothing I can ever say will be able to tell you how th-thankful I am that you built me this fort a-and hid me from the bad men and gave me a l-life. Mike, Mike, _Mike," _she wails. "You gave me a _h-home_.” 

“El, I-“

She cuts him off with a kiss and he kisses her back with tender desperation, making her feel infinitely small amidst their feelings for one another. 

She’s shaking when she pulls back, clutching onto him and he’s just as much of a mess as she is. Her heart aches as she watches him bite back a sob and she goes kiss him again, but his words stop her. 

“El, you don't understand what you did either,” he murmurs, his voice thick with tears and she furrows her brow. 

“Mike, I haven’t done--" He scoffs in disbelief, effectively silencing her rebuttal. 

“I jumped off a cliff. I shouldn’t have survived that, El. Do you understand what would’ve happened?” Her sobs rush back, shaking her body. “I would’ve been pulled out of that lake like Will’s fake body was. Remember that? That would have been me if you hadn’t...” 

She cries out at the image, falling back against him and clinging to him with every ounce of strength she has, her tears soaking her face. 

She cries for the what-could-have-been’s, the unknowns of the lives they could’ve led without the other. She cries for the possibility that she never would’ve met this wonderful boy and the possibility that he left her out in the rain. She cries for the warmth he surrounds her with, for the fort they’re sitting in, the clothes she’s wearing. 

Her tears are for their impossible journey, their beautiful story, the boy who gave her the sun, the moon and the stars. 

-

He hadn’t meant for his words to hurt her so much. His intentions are never to hurt her, but it was intense, what could've happened that day. Her reaction at the thought of his death tore his heart open from the inside out and he doesn't think he's ever held her tighter.

A memory from that day suddenly comes back to him as he recalls what she'd said to him as they’d dusted themselves off and gotten ready to go back to his house. 

She had tugged on his sleeve as they began walking away from the quarry and he remembers looking back to find her eyes shining with worry. She'd pointed back to the cliff he had fallen off of without letting go of his sleeve before turning back to him. 

“Never again,” she had whispered fiercely and he’d nodded, reassuring them both that he’d never, ever do that again.

Swallowing thickly, he lowers his lips to El’s ear, kissing her temple before whispering, “Hey, ‘never again’, remember? That’s what you told me and I promise I’ll never do that again.” Her sobs die down to whimpers at his sentiment, but her body still quivers against him and he cradles her face against his neck, gently stroking her hair. 

It’s the hair that did it for him. Seeing her standing in the same outfit she had worn the night he met her did something to him, his heart expanding impossibly. She wasn’t stuck as the frail, naive child he’d pulled out of the rain, and while he adored that child, who she was now was the girl he’d fallen in love with—brave, resilient, strong. She was safe and happy and that’s more than he could ever want in life. 

El’s shaking voice breaks him out of her thoughts, but he continues to comb through her hair as he listens to her. “Mike, you jumped because of D-Dustin. I know you love your friends, but please, _please_ don’t ever put yourself in danger b-because of me.” 

Her statement startles him because he’s always prepared to risk his life for her. He supposes that he never wants her to risk herself for him either, but it’s too late for that, his thoughts remind him wryly. It’s who they are—to look death in the face if it only means the other would get away safe and sound. 

“El, I already did,” he begins and he feels her stiffen. “You were unconscious, but that night at the school, you were on the ground and the bad men came around the corner and I knew, I-I just _knew_ the one in the middle was the worst of them all. So I stood in front of you and told him that he would have to kill me first if he was going to take you.” 

“Mike!” she cries indignantly, but he pushes on. 

“And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. But as much as I hate it, I know you’d do the same thing. You _have_ done the same thing. You put yourself in front of the_ Demogorgon_ for us.” 

“You stood up to the bad men? How stupid are you??” 

He grins. “Stupidly in love.”

She blinks, a smile she tries to hide tugging up the corners of her mouth and he chuckles, leaning forward to rub his nose with hers affectionately. She lets out a content sigh, before her eyes soften and he feels like she’s gazing into his soul, but he doesn’t mind, because it’s all hers. 

“Mike?” 

“Mmhm?” 

“Thank you for saving me.” 

Pulling her closer, he rests his forehead against hers, before whispering, “You’re welcome.”

“And thank you for saving my life. Thank you for coming back.” He kisses her nose. 

“Thank you for understanding me.” He kisses her forehead. 

“Thank you for trusting me.” He kisses her cheek. 

“Thank you for believing in me.” He kisses her temple. 

“Thank you for loving me.” He kisses her lips. 

Her finger comes up to press against his mouth when they part, silencing any further expressions of gratitude. She smiles, cupping his cheek with her hand and strokes it, his heart singing as she whispers to him. 

“Thank you for being my Mike.” 


End file.
